Skywarp, could not decide if he should be more surprised that Thundercracker was comming, finally, or that Ramjet was diving toward the rooftop at high speed. 'Thundercracker! Where are you? I have been trying to comm you!'

'Where are you?' Thundercracker asked.

Skywarp watched as Ramjet transformed and tumbled onto the rooftop. He seemed to be wearing one of Slipstream's guns.

'Ramjet is here,' Skywarp said anxiously.

'Are you on the roof? Ramjet doesn't have all of the new stealth devices.'

'I am on a roof. Do you mean you are downstairs, in this same building?'

'Why else would Ramjet be here?'

Skywarp was confused.

"No need to explain, no, I have it all figured out," Ramjet got on his feet and strode across the roof, looking for access to the apartments below.

Skywarp stood, disconnecting from the comm channel with Thundercracker and deactivating Stormshadow. He rushed after Ramjet, but then turned and went back to BB. "Stay safe here, BB. I'm not sure you'll fit, and I need to talk to Thundercracker. Do you think you want to join?"

"Roger."

"I'll go tell him!" Skywarp turned, again, and looked for Ramjet. He was at a transparent hatch, or perhaps a skylight. Ramjet got the hatch open and dropped inside to a corridor with detailed embossing, engraving or etching on every metal surface. Skywarp dropped down after him. "Ramjet, do you know where you are going?"

"Because I've been to fancy high rises in Iacon so many times before?"

Skywarp commed Thundercracker. 'Which apartment is it?'

'Level sixteen, apartment sigma.'

"Sigma-16," Skywarp said aloud to Ramjet. 'En route,' he commed back to Thundercracker.

When Ramjet entered the apartment, finding it unlocked, he saw Thundercracker sitting in a chair in the classy interior, and in another partition of the apartment, Slipstream and Red Alert in the midst of an argument.

Slipstream saw Ramjet and instantly went quiet and still.

Ramjet studied the others a moment. Red Alert was also now looking toward him nervously. Skywarp was greeting Thundercracker by bowing to touch the forepart of their helms together.

"Dirge should be on his way, but we are still missing Sunstorm," Thundercracker said, mainly to Skywarp.

"Sorry. I lost him."

Ramjet stalked toward the two femmes. "You," he said to Slipstream, "do whatever Red just told you."

"But -"

Ramjet put his hand close to Slipstream's face to shush her, even as he turned to look toward Red Alert. "And you, explain."

"In private?" Red Alert asked.

"Ramjet, there's no way she would even know if I did it or not, so is she just going to take my word if I say I did it?"

"I was trying to extend some brief measure of trust – not that you deserve it – but if you must be so Decepticon about it, I will happily call Glyph!"

"Now that is just going too far. 'Decepticon'?" Skywarp observed, watching from the arm of Thundercracker's chair.

"Slipstream," Thundercracker groaned; he was beginning to see why certain leaders found certain Seekers so intolerable, "do not dishonor our group and faction so. Purge the data, as our beneficent hostess has requested. Repay her trust by being worthy of it and keep to your word. Teach the Autobot that Decepticons are not all dishonorable and dishonest as she has been led to believe."

"Yes, Sir," Slipstream said quietly. She looked up, only slightly and did not meet Red Alert's optics fully. "Red Alert, I give you my word that I shall purge the data as you have requested. On my honor as a Seeker."

"On your creator's name?" Red Alert asked.

That was asking too much, Slipstream thought. She would refuse.

Thundercracker spoke, sparing Slipstream the need. "Brother, please escort your intended into the other room, if you take issue with any of my Seekers, then, you may bring argument to me."

"I don't expect it bothers you that someone had to die in order to make you leader," Ramjet snarked.

Thundercracker brooded silently as he watched Ramjet and Red Alert go into her private quarters. Ramjet was going to be difficult. He may never willingly follow, Thundercracker thought. He was not himself certain he wanted Ramjet as one of his, but he was a Seeker, kin, and a decent flier, if somewhat crash-prone. Seeing the wreck of the Nemesis on Luna, Thundercracker could make an educated guess where that trait came from.

"I am going to take an oil bath," Slipstream sighed.

"Are you purging the data you took from Red Alert?" Thundercracker asked.

"Yes. It takes just a little while to truly be rid of it." Sometimes she wished to purge all of His memories, but the damage was done. She would no doubt feel the same about Him, even without all His old memories constantly reminding her why.

"I knew your word was good; you are still my Third-in-Command."

Slipstream looked across the interior to Thundercracker, and Skywarp at his side. She smiled. Slipstream probably loved them. She probably loved Dirge, too, when she thought about it.

They really were brothers to her. Of course in the sense that they were alike in shard and shell, but also because they had formed a unit together. Autobots probably were taught that Decepticons did not even know of love, that they were evil and only thought of conquest. And while it was true they were a militaristic kind, with a warrior's code – dishonorable or honorable as the code may be from one to another – they certainly did know of love.

Maybe some Decepticons just loved the excitement of battle, and some others tended to truly love their commanders, a few loved odd concepts or individuals of other races, and quite a few seemed to love themselves, but mostly they were likely to love each other. The particular relationship between the four of them was somewhere between that of brothers-in-arms and rival schoolmates. Yes they bickered and strove to challenge and prove themselves against each other, but when it came to challenge and threat from without, Slipstream was certain that they were now close enough they would each fiercely defend the others.

It was as they had agreed, when the four were united: the bonds of their kinship were thinker and stronger than any they later may choose. Eventually, and also very soon, Slipstream needed her brothers to understand that she needed Him back. There was a way; she was at least 90% certain. She would need help, and it would not be easy, and of course there would be a price and sacrifice, but the more she thought about it, the more she was certain it really was possible. She needed them to really understand, to do it for her, and trust His return would in no way invalidate Thundercracker's leadership, or her service to him.

An if – when he came back, he was probably going to be obnoxious and annoying and all-in-all a real pain. Slipstream needed to prepare. She needed to act now, while all the necessary components of her plan were on Cybertron.

"W-wait, did Slipstream actually say 'oil bath'?" Skywarp asked loudly.

Thundercracker made a tight smile. "I myself was torn between my respect for cleanliness and my disdain for Autobot decadence and hedonism. You should see the marvel for yourself, when our sister is through, of course."

"I've never even had a bath! That other Autobot's facilities were nice enough, I thought." Skywarp thought about the differences. "I though Autobot government was all for providing for the weak and poor and such."

"Ah, you see the corruption? The Haves must contribute to the Have-Nots, yet somehow there exists an elite class of Have-Mores who even after contributing what they argue as fair, are still able to live in luxury. Red Alert is not a simple soldier and medi-bot. Look at her family holos and mementos about her apartment. She's related to that sporty blue Autobot with the red face all over the billboards...advertising mods."

"The Decepticon way is better if we are strong or smart, but I would not want to be a weak Decepticon. No leader would want to reward my service, or compete for my loyalty. There would be no lesser 'Cons to vie for my own attention. No one would give me a position where I could show my worth and move up in rank. Life would just be scrapping about for parts and energon and trying to stay in repair."

"The weak are beneath our notice, but weakness is not only a physical measure. One can be weak in mind or spark. The betters rule, because they have proven their worthiness. The weak who will not or cannot fend for themselves are only worthy of contempt, perhaps pity and some mercy, but not hand-outs. But, you, My Dear Skywarp, have gone from coward who would have been passed over to Second-in-Command of a Seeker group."

"Yes, and I have you to thank for it, Oh, Magnificent One."

"I admit I gave you your first chance for somewhat selfish reasons, but you showed your worth and skill and climbed rank on your own. I am quite proud. Perhaps as reward, I will allow you to choose which game we play before recharging."

Though Skywarp had not missed the generous offer, something in the mention of games triggered his memory. "Oh! I found us a recruit! He's on the roof. He will maybe seem weak in mind to you, but it is just his language skills seem limited. However, he looks very strong physically, and compatible with heavy artillery. He wants to join, if you find him worthy."

"You recommend this mech?"

"Yes. I have designated him BB. He seems to be from one of the outer rim sub-factions. He's a bomber."

"Let us go meet this BB," Thundercracker said. He was certain the others would be some time before they could discuss their next move. As he rose from the chair, he heard Skywarp whisper the name of the game he wanted to play. "Excellent. A good game for beginners, yet one from which we may all learn."

Ramjet, for his part, was in Red Alert's private rooms, seated on the floor. He had listened to her accounts and persuasive arguments for and against certain decisions she had made, or future actions she expected of Ramjet. He was angry with his kin for harrying Red, but understood their intent had been to rescue him. Red requested that any vengeance against Slipstream be her own. Ramjet believed Thundercracker and the others would defend Slipstream, in any case.

"What is 'kiss'?" Ramjet asked.

Red Alert giggled. "Do Decepticons not have kissing? Perhaps you have another word for it."

"Sounds like something that only those in courtship or bond would do, considering your account." He had seen that hot rodding Autobot, while monitoring his intended from high-altitude. If Ramjet had been closer, he might have done harm, but he was not going to seek that Major and call him out to fight. Whatever this activity he had seemed about to initiate, Red had made it clear that Autobot was not one with which she wished to share it.

"I can show you, if you like."

"It's not like I'm wildly curious by now."

Red smiled. She leaned in a little.

"Do- Do I have to do anything. Are we supposed to stand up?"

"You trust me?"

"No!"

"So, you do. Correct?"

"Of course I trust you, Red. You think I sit in the private chambers of Autobots frequently?"

"I mean, regardless of factions, do you trust yourself to me?"

"I do."

"All right..." Red's expression seemed vacant; it appeared she tasted her lips. She was so close, Ramjet had to switch his optics over to macro in order to focus.

"It's not -?"

"What?" Red said quietly.

"Not anything with sparks...is it?"

She giggled again. "No. Not that. I mean, not that I am experienced, personally, but my medi-bot training was thorough and informative."

Ramjet honestly did not even know what 'that' was, he only had suspicions and memories of innuendo. He was certain, when it was time, he would just know. Maybe it was dormant programming that required a set of conditions be met before initiating.

"It might be better, this time, if you shut down your optical sensors. You need your other sensors active."

The trust had not been a lie. Ramjet shut off his optics, so that he would not see. He was first aware of a scent and then proximity, an electrical tingle, followed by slight pressure on his lips and finally the taste of Red's mouth. This was a 'kiss'. All the automated subroutines and sensors that ordinarily served to inform him whether an atmosphere was better suited to one propulsion system versus another, or whether fuel had sufficient chemical properties to power his systems, or even whether he was injured, now took sample of Red and analyzed her body chemistry.

She was perfect. The particular blend of petrochemicals, metal and synthesized compounds broken down in table of parts per billion served to reinforce what Ramjet already knew. Red Alert was the one for him. The pleasantness of the experience, perceived by his processor, gave verity to their compatibility. Red had excellent taste; she was made of the best quality stuff.

Ramjet onlined his optical sensors just as Red Alert drew away from him. He felt at peace, as no conflict existed or could exist in this point in space-time. "I love you."

"The truth," Red said, "though I knew it when you said you hated me." She pressed her mouth to his once more, briefly. "You have a sort of jet fuel scent. I like it. None of us who roll the roads have quite that same scent or taste."

"Sampled them all, I bet."

"Of course, every single one."

"This mouth-pressing, this kissing, I think I can see the appeal. I do not seem to have memories regarding it."

Red Alert giggled. "Does that mean Starscream has never been kissed?"

"Or he edited our memories more than previously suspected. I do not know which."

"Well, in any case, I do get to have you all to myself."

"Was that an intimation of worthiness I heard? Maybe even desire?"

"And you? Not afraid I'll infect you with spores? Defile you with prehensile tongue? Shoot you with the cannon hidden in the back of my mouth?"

Ramjet laughed. "And here I thought biting off the head came after the sparks."

Red laughed with him, but her tone was more passionate than amused when she spoke, "Ramjet, I want to go somewhere with you."

"'Cause we're not alone anywhere now."

"I am saying, if you leave Cybertron, I will go with you. I do not want to be a Decepticon, and I know you do not want to be an Autobot, but I...I want to learn if we are able to live with that, together. I do not know, yet, if there will be ceremonies or vows in the future, but I do want to be near you now. I will find a way to explain to those I care about here. I've no intention of cutting myself off from them, but I do not think they would be very welcoming to you."

"I don't even know where I'll go."

"Then choose to follow someone, until you see your own path clearly," Red suggested.

Sunstorm was lost and low on energy. He was also genuinely surprised that he had not been arrested yet. After wasting nearly all the energy he had been able to absorb from the force bars, in his panicked flight from the prison, he had wasted even more precious energy flying around, just to feel the lift and laminar flow of atmosphere over his wings. He had manged not to crash, somehow, and merely landed awkwardly in the middle of a broad roadway between monumental buildings.

Now, he sat slumped against a retaining wall, near the steps to some important-looking building, looking at another large and seemingly important facade across the street. Autobots rolled or walked past, but somehow did not seem to take notice.

Granted his bold coloring did blend somewhat with the local architecture, but that did not explain how they seemed to miss the purple brands on his wings. He had no active dampening to disguise his distinct Decepticon energy patterns, although he supposed he was possibly so low on energy that he did not broadcast very far. He was not quite as apt at putting the memories of scientific training into practice as the others.

Sunstorm had done a lot of what he called inner seeking, while in prison. He thought about himself, his fellow clones, existence, meaning, nature. It occurred to him that as clones with preinstalled memory, they were only really similar up to the point they first came online. At that point, all the memories were equally new to them, and thus equally fresh and sharp as when Starscream had first committed each event to memory. As they came online, their core Seeker programming had been identical as had their memories. Their physical shells had developed some distinction in the protoforming process, he supposed, but again he was not the scientist.

Sunstorm was interested in the effect those first few millicycles of self-awareness had on the present state of each clone. Why did they have their differences? Could it be explained by the shards of the AllSpark alone? Or, perhaps, might their decisions made in the earliest stage of online existence affect their future course? Had Thundercracker, by making a choice, first happened on a memory of Starscream in the midst of some miserable failure and decided in his first moment of awareness of self that his self was superior to what he had for comparison in memory?

Sunstorm thought that he had in his choices, determined consciously or at random, made use of the same intelligence all the clones possessed, but had rather than science or battle, fixated on memories of Starscream at his most introspective, after loosing a battle, or suffering injury, or being turned down by someone attractive, or passed over for promotion. Always the self-analysis, wondering: why were things the way that they were, was it possible for one such as himself to become more or better, and if so, how? Self-critical, but secretly and guardedly so, and in the introspection, open to seeing what was better about others.

Sunstorm had gone the route of flattery and sycophancy. Seeing what he desired to be in others, smarmily relaying the positive traits he observed, and to his own detriment. Then, he had run out of good things to say. Perhaps it would come back, but it had not yet.

Almost on empty, he continued to sit slumped against the wall retaining the sculpture garden in front of one of the important government buildings. He could see Autobots, and even mechanisms from other colonies and splinter factions lining up in queue to enter the building across the street.

Introspective still, Sunstorm considered that the outward trait each clone showed was not necessarily the key or primary thing that defined them. For example, he had been called a 'suck-up', but the underlying truth was that he was self-critical and highly introspective. And Ramjet had been called a liar, but having spent a while living with him in a small prison cell, Sunstorm could say that the lying itself was not Ramjet's most defining trait. Ramjet had a contrary, rebellious need to be shocking and controversial, and this again had underlying motivations, and that was that Ramjet was critical about the universe in general and perhaps even an idealist at shard.

He was sure it would prove true of the others. For example, that Slipstream was so guarded and defensive about herself, particularly her emotions was very likely motivated by some secret emotional weakness or insecurity, which she wanted badly to hide from others, or to deny.

Someone tossed an energon goodie at Sunstorm. He caught it awkwardly, leaning and clutching to keep the goodie intact, with the short notice that an object was incoming. So, it had come to it that he was seen only as some empty living on the streets. The mechanisms about him did not recognize him as a Decepticon, because they were not really looking at him. He was passed over by their glances, seen only as an unfortunate in their periphery and beneath notice. It was almost Decepticon of them.

Sunstorm ate the goodie. He knew it would not be enough to get him flying again, but it would stave off involuntary stasis a while longer.

"What is we having here, Brother?" a voice asked in heavily accented Autobot. Sunstorm looked up and saw the blue 'Bot on his left. He had found, also in his prison term introspection, that as a clone with preinstalled memory, he was able to piece together information from separate memories in a manner that Starscream may never have done. In other words, Sunstorm could recognize patterns and make connections between events in Starscream's life, even though Starscream had never made the same connection. For example, he could understand Autobot fairly well, though it was not apparent in any one of Starscream's memories that he had possessed this ability.

"I am thinking it is being Starscream, yet he is not being Starscream." Sunstorm could not only understand their words, based on Starscream's many years of hearing, but not comprehending, Autobot speech; but he could tell the blue one and his gold brother had the accent of the Cyberion Wastes. Maybe they had worked at a power plant or refinery there.

"Is being, is not being, that is the question," Sunstorm said to them, imitating their speech patterns. "To exist, to bear the unbearable lightness of being, what does this really mean?"

The gold one, Jetfire, bent and peered at Sunstorm. "I am thinking he is one of the escaped clones we are looking for."

"Yes, Brother," the blue one, Jetstorm, said, also peering, "Is strange. He is not having the sadistic behavior of the Starscream we know."

"Do we even truly know, Starscream, Brother?" Jetfire asked.

"Perceptor is making simulation a challenge with data of real Starscream," Jetstorm argued.

"And Starscream is making clones without this data, Brother?" Jetfire asked, bitterly sarcastic tone being not unlike Ramjet's, Sunstorm thought.

"Brothers," Sunstorm said. He saw the twins turned from argument to face him. "What is made from Starscream's code is at moment of being, no longer being Starscream. We are each being ourselves, we are making our own choices. Do you know Starscream? Do you not know Starscream? What is knowing? Can any be said to truly know another, Brothers?"

"Are you having what I am having, Brother," Jetfire hissed to Jetstorm, though loudly enough that Sunstorm could hear.

"Are you also having the flashing in your processor?"

"What means this, Brother?" Jetfire asked.

"We are needing to ask Mr. Sentinel Magnus about this, Brother."

"Brothers," Sunstorm whispered, "Come closer. I can help you."

The twins looked to each other, wondering what their decision should be. After silent deliberation, Jetfire and Jetstorm both approached Sunstorm.

"Help me up," Sunstorm said, playing up his genuine weakness a bit. He felt their hands on his torso and was able to stand. The moment he was on his feet, Sunstorm spread his arms, as if to take the two Autobot fliers under his wings and confide some secret. Having their confidence, Sunstorm quickly dug his claws beneath the dorsal armor plating of each twin and pinched the wing-nubs he had expected to find.

The twins, unfamiliar with the sensation, wailed wordlessly, and swayed with obvious disorientation.

"So, this is the extent of Autobot science? Creating wingless flight models with codes they do not fully understand? Do you even know what you are?"

"Autobot science is sneering at you!" Jetfire spat weakly. Sunstorm pinched the wing-nub harder and Jetfire wailed again.

"Brother," Jetstorm whispered.

"Yes!"

Sunstorm felt the hot and cold run up his arms as the twins used their special abilities to produce and control fire and ice to resist him. "I sneer at your resistance!" Sunstorm said, as he absorbed the energy of their attacks. Icy-hot, he thought, this was actually a rather pleasant sensation.

Sunstorm stopped short of sending the twins into stasis and dropped them to the street. Fully charged again, Sunstorm smirked as he looked down at the two twins. "Is that being sadistic enough for you, Brothers?"

The twins produced only moans, looking up with flickering yellow optics and blue visor.

"I so want to thank you both!" Sunstorm said, realizing he had something good to say. "Really, you are most generous! I thank you for the boost, My Brothers. You are too kind, really!"

"Please," Jetstorm said weakly.

"Is nothing," Jetfire said.

The twins lay on the street, only just noticing the crowd of onlookers, and watched Sunstorm transform and fly away. "Are you thinking what I am thinking?" Jetstorm asked.

"We are being so totally fragged, Brother!"