Digger's "academy" was a relatively simple affair, a plain building nestled between a couple of warehouses several blocks from Iacon's main street. There was no sign out front advertising its purpose – indeed, not a trace of evidence that this building housed a collection of Cybertronian sparklings. From the street, it looked more like an office building than any kind of school or sparkling care center.

Perhaps that's the entire point, thought Glory, looking down from her perch atop one of the neighboring warehouses. If the Autobots knew Decepticons were in their midst, even if they were all children, it would probably stir up a panic, not to mention considerable controversy. By making the academy as nondescript as possible, Digger and whoever else she worked with ensured that their operation would attract very little attention, at least until the sparklings in their care were ready to be upgraded or placed with an adult caretaker.

From her position, however, she could see what someone passing by on the street couldn't – a walled yard behind the building, where roughly two dozen sparklings were playing and running around under the watchful optic of a bulky brown-and-green Autobot. Said walls were high enough that the only possible way to know what was on the other side was to climb up onto the roof of a nearby building, helping to disguise the academy even further. Why the sounds of sparklings at play didn't tip anyone off was anyone's guess… but then, this was a warehouse district and didn't see much in the way of curious passersby. Probably another deliberate choice to keep the sparklings hidden from prying eyes, she thought.

"Pit, you never said there were this many," Blitzwing remarked from his position on Glory's right. "How're we supposed to get 'em all back to base?"

"We'll have to hijack a shuttle on our way out," Steelwing replied, her doorwings twitching as she studied the yard below. "Be the best way. Though not all of those are 'Con kids, so I don't know why you have your cables in such a twist."

"How can you even tell which is which?" demanded Blitzwing. "All sparklings look the same to me."

"There's some subtle differences," Steelwing pointed out. "Optic color, for one thing. And Decepticon sparklings often come with some kind of built-in defense system, though maybe the Autobots disabled them in these ones. That and they tend to have thicker armor than Autobot or neutral sparklings."

"Huh." Blitzwing mulled that over a bit. "They still look the same from here. Maybe it's a femme thing, being able to tell the difference from this distance."

Glory just let the two talk, keeping her optics on the yard and its occupants. Breaking the sparklings out of here wasn't going to be a walk in the park. The building itself looked pretty secure, and at every corner of the walled yard she could make out an anti-aircraft weapons turret. The Autobots weren't taking any chances, it seemed, and wanted this building fully secure against any Decepticons that might come to take their sparklings back. There were no guards that she could see... but that didn't mean they weren't inside the building, patrolling the halls and keeping both intruders out and any potential escapees in.

Her gaze kept drifting to the Autobot caretaker, who was crouched down at the moment to comfort a sparkling who had just taken a spill and was fussing about it. Funny… she was so used to Autobot femmes being delicate-looking dolls that she had fully expected Digger to look the same. But the caretaker looked far more mech-like than even some mechs she'd known, with a thickly armored frame, a slitted mask obscuring her mouth and olfactory sensor, and the blade of her bulldozer alt mode fixed to her shoulders and looming over her head almost like the hood of a cloak. She wasn't sure whether to feel some satisfaction at seeing an atypical femme, or dismay that said femme looked like she could take apart any of them in a fight.

Then she took a look at the sparklings themselves… and what she saw disturbed her. The Autobots and neutrals seemed to mingle well enough, playing games together and sharing gossip and laughter. But a small group of sparklings stayed huddled off to one side, playing quietly, mostly ignored by the others except if a ball or other toy happened to fall too close to their group. It didn't exactly surprise Glory that all these "outcasts" had the red optics and more heavily armored chassis typical of Decepticon sparklings, but it still saddened her.

We've got to get them out of there, she vowed. They're still being treated badly, even if the Autobots are so sure they're doing the right thing in keeping them here. They can't stay here any longer.

"How do we get in?" she wondered aloud. "We can't go in from above, and it looks too secure for us to take from the ground. If we had more troops, maybe… what if we called Stormrunner's team?"

Steelwing shook her head. "I hate to interrupt their mission if they're having any luck at all in finding a key. Besides, we may not have numbers, but we have CPUs. We can wrangle our way in if we just be smart about it."

"Maybe Blinker could finagle her way in?" asked Blitzwing, smirking just a little. "Autobots are slaggin' trusting of their own kind – you could waltz in, disable the guns, and give us an opening."

Steelwing snorted. "Blinker's an archivist-in-training. What reason would she have to be around sparklings? Besides, I'm sure word's gotten around by now that I was seen in the company of Decepticons. Won't be safe to use that persona again."

"What about your other personas?" asked Glory. "I thought you had more than one."

She pondered that, optics darkening as she focused. "Hmm… Quicksilver's primarily a message courier. It's possible I could get in that way. But I don't have my paints with me – pretty much assumed Blinker would be all I needed." She grimaced.

"What color's Quicksilver?" asked Blitzwing. "Maybe we can get ahold of something."

"Silver, duh," Steelwing retorted. "Silver and black with some blue highlights. But where are three 'Cons going to get ahold of paint supplies when half of Iacon's out looking for them?"

Glory sighed softly. So much for that idea.

"Could always just go in from above," Blitzwing pointed out. "One of us could draw the anti-aircraft fire while the others go in and swipe the sparklings."

"You volunteering yourself, Blitz?" asked Steelwing, arching an optic ridge.

"No!" Glory said quickly. "Blitzwing, don't hurt yourself. We'll find another way."

"What other way?" Blitzwing demanded. "We ain't got a lot of other options. And before you ask, no, I ain't letting you go out there to be target practice."

"Why not? I'm fast and maneuverable, they'll have a harder time hitting me…"

"I don't want you hurt!" He seemed about to say more, but then caught himself. "I mean… that came out wrong…"

"This is touching, you two, but we've got a job to do here," Steelwing cut in irritably. "We can bicker about who goes down there all day, but someone's gotta go down and distract the folks in charge. Someone just go already."

Blitzwing nodded and pushed himself up to his knees, preparing to stand. Glory wanted to stop him, but didn't know what to say to get him to change his mind. Triple-changer or not, he'd get himself killed if he went down there – and the thought of anything happening to him, of yet another mech she cared about coming to harm, was enough to make her spark ache…

Then something caught her attention. "Blitz, stop!"

Steelwing groaned. "Slaggit, kid, what did I say?"

"Look at him!" Glory pointed to Blitzwing's chest and abdominal plates. The triple-changer had been lying flat on the roof of the warehouse, and a thick layer of grease and dust smeared his armor, totally obscuring his normal violet paint job in several places.

"I'm dirty, so what?" Blitzwing snapped. "Gone into battle a little dingy plenty of times. Let's get this over with already!"

"Wait, Blitz," Steelwing noted, and a sly smile crossed her lip plates. "The kid's on to something here."

"What?" He glanced down at himself. "Someone clue me in already."

"We may have a handy disguise here after all," Steelwing replied, raising her own hand to reveal a similar coating of grunge and grease coloring her palm. "The fact that Autobots are too slagging trusting of their own kind doesn't hurt things either. We can get this done without anyone getting shot at. Now get down, Blitz, before someone sees you."

Blitzwing crouched down, but not without a bit of a snort. "Don't like this idea already. Too many things can go wrong."

"Not as wrong as getting shot down in Autobot territory," Glory pointed out. "Come give us a hand here…"

Digger had just broken up a tussle between two of the sparklings and was about to send them back off to play when a radio ping interrupted her.

Ma'am, there's a message courier here for you.

Take the message and put it on my desk, she replied. I'll look at it while the kids are refueling this evening.

Sorry, ma'am, but she says it's sensitive information. She can only give it to you.

Digger sighed. All right, I'll be right there. Won't be a breem. Send Glacier out to watch the sparklings, all right? Might as well get some use out of the big lug if Magnus is going to saddle me with him.

Copy.

She cut off the comm line and patted the two young sparklings' shoulders. "Behave yourselves, Fourwheels, Lancer. And be good for Glacier. No throwing rocks at him to see if he feels it through his armor this time."

"I only did that once," Fourwheels insisted.

"Once was once too many," she replied. "If I hear about it again you'll stay inside next recess."

Fourwheels pouted but nodded.

"Off with you then," she urged. "And no fighting!"

Fourwheels nodded again and bolted for the climbing structure in the center of the yard. Lancer moved off at a more sedate pace, going to join the cluster of sparklings that normally gathered in the corner of the yard to play their own private games. Digger sighed again before turning to go, stepping to the side to let Glacier, a white-armored submarine-former, into the yard. Primus knew she tried to keep the fighting to a minimum among the sparklings, but there would always be those few who thought they had to prove their superiority by picking on the smaller or weaker ones.

And though Magnus would probably insist otherwise, it was almost never the Decepticon sparklings that instigated the fights. More often than not it was the neutral sparklings who started things, though a few of the Autobot sparklings joined in from time to time. Fourwheels was probably the worst offender – he wouldn't go out of his way to hassle the other sparklings, but if anyone smaller than him crossed his path he wasn't above teasing them until they lashed out in anger. Digger did her best to train that out of him, but he was resisting her attempts to reform him.

She'd keep working at him, however. No sparkling was beyond teaching, and even Fourwheels would come around if she was just persistent with him. She liked the kid – then again, she liked all the kids, even the neutral and Decepticon kids. But just because she had a soft spot for them didn't mean she'd let them get away with slag, and she took her job as their mentor and rehabilitator seriously.

At least the Decepticons have gentled somewhat since they got here, she thought. They were so skittery when they first got here, so afraid of anything that wore an Autobot symbol. They still don't mix with the other sparklings, but at least they've grown to trust me. The guards are another story, but if Magnus would just stop changing the guards here so often they'd grow accustomed…

Her train of thought slid to a halt as she reached the door… and saw the very filthy Autobot standing there. A Praxian femme with a purple chevron, she was so covered in grease and dirt that apart from the chevron, she couldn't even make out what her original colors had been. She didn't even appear to notice her grimy state, however, and simply leaned against the doorway, a package tucked under one arm and a bored-looking expression on her faceplate.

"You're Digger?" the courier asked.

"Guilty," Digger replied. "What happened to you? You look like you got pushed into an oil refinery."

"Har har," the courier mock-laughed. "Some joker suggested I take the shortcut through Vos to get here. Never again."

"Ouch," Digger winced. "You're lucky you just came out of there dirty. There's talk of scavengers and packs of rogue Decepticons living there." She extended her hand for the package. "What's so sensitive it couldn't just be left on my desk?"

"Beats me," the courier replied, holding the package out. "I was just told it goes to you and no one else."

"It had better not be more paperwork." She reached out to take the package. "I swear, I spend more of my time here filling out forms than actually taking care of the spar-"

The courier's free hand came up at that moment, ramming something into the cables of Digger's neck. Before she could react energy jolted through her body, scrambling her vision and causing every system in her chassis to go haywire. She was offline and crumpling to the floor before she could even gather her wits enough to wonder what the slag was going on.

Steelwing quickly subspaced the shock prod, then crouched down beside the femme. She despised what she was about to do next, but sometimes duty called for doing something distasteful…

"Somebody help me!" she screamed. "She just passed out! Help!"

That did the trick – two guards came running at her call, and one knelt down to check Digger's vital signs while the other stood watch. Steelwing did her best to keep an expression of worried panic on her faceplate, though it disgusted her to do so. Best to let these mechs think she was a brainless femmebot for the moment, and throw off any suspicion.

"She's all right, just unconscious," the first guard noted. "Smokescreen, go comm for a medic."

"Yes sir." The second guard, another Praxian, saluted and hurried off.

"You," the first guard went on, jabbing a finger at her, "there's a repair kit in Digger's office, just down the hall and to the right. Go get it, quickly!"

"O-okay," she replied, keeping her voice weak and shaky, and darted off.

Once she was out of the guard's sight, Steelwing veered into a hallway that led deeper into the academy. Somewhere around here there should be a control room, where she could slip in and shut down the anti-aircraft guns outside. Digger would recover from her blow soon enough, and Steelwing wanted to be done with what she came to do and out of this place before that happened.

It seemed an eternity later when the call came over the radio, so sudden that Glory nearly jumped straight up into the air when Steelwing spoke.

They're down. Move in, quick!

Blitzwing didn't hesitate – he rose to his feet and took a running leap off the roof of the warehouse, transforming in midair to his jet mode and diving for the yard. Glory stared after him a moment, transfixed. She'd never thought the triple-changer could be that graceful in the air, but it seemed he was full of surprises…

She shook her head and leaped off after him. No time to gawk. They had a mission to fulfill.

A chorus of screams rang out as both Decepticons touched down, Blitzwing shifting to robot mode as he did so. The sparklings scattered to the edges of the yard, some huddling together in groups as if for protection, others running to hide behind the white-armored Autobot who had been left to guard them. In the far corner of the yard, a group of scarlet-opticked sparklings stared at Glory and Blitzwing, nervous but their optics shining with awe… and maybe hope as well.

Glory flashed them a comforting smile before turning to the guard, who just stared at them dumbfoundedly. He shook his head as if to clear it, then drew his gun.

"Dunno how you got past the guns," he snarled, "but that don't matter. Get out before I blow you to scrap."

Blitzwing snickered. "Aw, you'd really do that, Auto-chump? Traumatize the kids by killing a coupla mechs in front of them? Here I thought your kind were decent."

The mech curled his lip in disgust. "Don't talk to me about decency, 'Con! You're the one here to abduct innocent sparklings!"

"Who said anything about an abduction?" Glory asked, releasing her arm blades. "We're just here to take back what's ours."

It took the guard a moment to process that phrase, but when it finally clicked in his CPU his optics narrowed. "Oh no you don't, Decepti-creeps! We got those kids away from your kind to save them, and we're not about to let you corrupt them all over again!"

"You got a funny way of saving them, looks like," Blitzwing pointed out as he stepped forward, shoulders back and wings raised, giving his most intimidating show to the guard. "You're outnumbered, pal, so just toss me the gun and give it up. Unless you want to start a fight, and won't that be somethin' to report to your superior – that you started a brawl with a coupla 'Cons in the middle of a group of sparklings. Be a shame if any of them got caught in the crossfire."

Glory shot Blitzwing a stunned look, and opened a private channel between them. You wouldn't threaten…

I ain't that spark-less, he retorted, shooting her a glare. Don't want any of the kids hurt. Just hopin' he wants the same thing.

In the end, it seemed the Autobot did want the same thing after all. He gave the two of them a long, venomous look, then tossed the gun at Blitzwing's feet. The triple-changer scooped it up and grabbed the Autobot's arms, pinning them behind his back.

Once it seemed that the guard wouldn't be a problem, Glory went to the corner where the Decepticon sparklings huddled, their optics wide and bright with amazement and fear. She retracted her blades and knelt before them, holding her hand out.

"It's all right," she said softly. "We're not going to hurt you. We're friends."

The children didn't look so sure about that, and just stared back nervously. Glory counted eight of them, six mechs and two femmes, and suspected that they were all very young – the oldest looked no older than she had been when her creators had been killed, and a few looked like they'd been little more than newbuilts when they'd come here. Her spark ached for them, and she wondered just how much propaganda and CPU-washing the Autobots had forced on them… and how much of it they believed.

Just try to get their trust. That's most important. Get them to trust you, and then worry about fixing whatever damage Digger and the others did.

Her gaze rested on the very youngest of the group, a little femme with deep blue armor and a mask that covered most of her face. "Hello… what's your name?"

The femme blinked her optic shutters a few times, as if she had to process the question fully before she could answer. "Swift," she said at last, her voice so soft Glory had to strain to hear.

"Swift… that's a pretty name." She touched her chest. "Mine's Glory."

"Oh." Swift resumed staring up at her, seemingly transfixed by her.

"Kid, hurry it up!" Blitzwing ordered. "We don't have a lot of time!"

What do you think I'm trying to do? she thought irritably. She was fully aware that the longer they stood here, the greater the risk of more guards showing up. But she didn't dare just scoop up an armful of sparklings and take off with them, and risk scaring them even more. She wanted to be sure they understood this was a rescue, and not a capture.

A high whine broke into her thoughts, and her gaze focused on Swift again. The little newbuilt was shaking in fear, cleanser building up in her optics.

"It's okay, sweetie," Glory told her. "I'm a friend." On impulse she reached into her subspace pocket and dug around. She hadn't even bothered to empty her personal effects out of it upon coming to Beta Geode, and she should still have… there!

"Here," she said gently, drawing her old dragon toy out of subspace and holding it out to Swift. "This is Dragon. Maybe holding him will make you feel better?"

Swift's optics lit up, and she snatched Dragon and hugged him to her chest.

"You're a Decepticon too?" asked one of the older sparklings, a black mech with red markings.

"I am." She hitched her wings a little higher in pride. "I'm a Seeker."

"Cool!" he gushed. "I'm a Decepticon too! Or… I guess my creators were. But Digger says we gotta be Autobots now."

Glory wanted to scowl at that, but kept her expression neutral. "Do you want to be Autobots?"

"No," whined another sparkling, a bronze-and-green mech with rudimentary wings on his shoulders. "The Autobots don't like us. They tell us bad things about the Decepticons, and that they're evil and stuff. The stories they tell us are scary!"

"They say they're going to give us new parents," the black sparkling added. "Autobot parents. They say it'll make our lives better." His expression took on a stubborn cast. "But if I get new parents, I want them to be Decepticons! We're Decepticons! No matter what they say!"

Her spark flared with triumph at his words. So the "rehabilitation" hadn't taken root as the Autobots had hoped. That was wonderful as far as she was concerned. "What's your name?"

"Valiant."

"Valiant, we're here to take you and the other Decepticon sparklings to a new home," she told him. "A Decepticon base, where you'll be safe and no one will tell you what you can and can't be. How does that sound?"

Several of the kids cheered at that, and Valiant grinned broadly. Swift just hugged Dragon all the tighter, but her optics lit up at that.

"Is this all of you?" she asked. "Or are there more?"

"Just us," a violet mech with silver and green markings replied. "We all stick together. We tell each other stories about the time before here, so we don't forget." He pointed to his chest. "I'm Lancer." He said that with a proud air, as if it were the most important news in the world.

"Well, Valiant, Lancer, I'm going to need your help," Glory told them. "Do either of you have antigravs yet?"

They shook their heads. Blast. It would have been so much easier to get the sparklings out of here if they were able to fly.

"Blitzwing, I need you in jet form," she told the triple-changer. "We're going to have to carry them out on our backs."

"What about him?" Blitzwing demanded, jerking his head toward the guard.

"Let him go," she replied. "We'll be out of here before he can come back with reinforcements.

Blitzwing scowled, but he let his captive go. The guard immediately bolted for the door.

"Valiant, Lancer, we need two groups of four," she told the older sparklings. "Half on Blitzwing and half on me. And you need to hold on tight, understand?"

"We're gonna fly outta here?" asked the other femme, grinning.

"We're going to fly out of here," Glory confirmed. "It's the fastest way. Let's hurry!"

The sparklings cheered as she transformed to her jet mode, and no sooner had the last of her components clicked into place than she felt small hands and feet on her frame, the kids clambering aboard. Swift ended up seated just behind her cockpit, still clutching Dragon with one arm and gripping a panel of Glory's armor with the other. To her left, Blitzwing was grumbling a few choice words as Lancer herded three other sparklings onto the triple-changer's back before climbing aboard himself.

"Everyone ready?" Glory asked. "We take off on three! One-"

The doors leading from the academy proper to the yard hissed open, and a cluster of guards came charging out.

"Three!" Blitzwing bellowed, and took off with a roar of thrusters, the sparklings on his back screaming with delight at the sudden takeoff. Glory blasted after him, trying to go slowly enough that she didn't risk any of the sparklings flying off. A few plasma blasts screeched by as the guards took shots at them, but the shots went rather wide and stopped after a matter of seconds. Evidently someone with a saner mind had taken over and ordered the guards to quit shooting at sparklings.

Steelwing, we've got them! Glory reported. All of them! The sparklings are safe!

First good news I've heard all day, Steelwing replied, voice warm with relief. I'm on my way out. We'll rendezvous in what's left of Vos and see if there's still a usable shuttle there to make our escape in.

Thank Primus, Blitzwing grumbled. Don't think I'm gonna make it back to Beta Geode with four kids on my back. Blasted little buggers won't stop poking me!

Aw, admit it, Blitz, you got a soft spot for the little ones, Steelwing teased.

Do not! Can't stand the little fraggers!

Sure, whatever. Just get to Vos. I'll meet you guys there.

Luck finally seemed to be on their side. Not only did they make it to Vos without further upsets, but they found a shipyard with a few shuttles still in good working order. And though an Autobot shuttle tried to intercept them on their way out of the star system, it mysteriously backed off before it could get too close. Blitzwing called it luck, but Glory suspected Prime had something of a hand in their escape.

For the first time since they'd left Beta Geode, Glory allowed herself to relax, just laying back in a chair as Steelwing checked in with Stormrunner. Swift sat in her lap, still hugging Dragon and seeming content to just curl up against the Seeker and stay there. It felt odd having a sparkling so close, especially since she hadn't had contact with other sparklings since she was very young herself, but if it made Swift more comfortable she wasn't going to object.

"Mmm-hmm… yes, we're all present and accounted for… yes, even Glory… no, she's fine, not even a scratch… look, stop fussing, she's an adult now… yes, I know, but she's proven perfectly capable of taking care of herself…"

Swift glanced up at Glory, and Glory made a show of rolling her optics at whatever Stormrunner was fussing about. The younger femme giggled, burying her face in Dragon's wings as if trying to muffle her laughter.

"You found one? Well, thank Primus, at least one of our teams found what we're looking for." A pause. "Actually, no, but we found something that might make Shockwave even happier… no, not how to defeat Galvatron… would you believe sparklings? …no, I'm not pulling your leg, we found Decepticon sparklings… eight of them… I don't know all their names yet…"

Blitzwing stomped into the cockpit at that moment, grumbling something about "damn kids" under his air cycles. Glory had to muffle a giggle of her own behind her hand.

"We're on our way back. Probably a straight shot, since we've got a ship now. Sure you don't need a ride back? No? All right, see you back at base. Out." Steelwing cut the connection. "Good news – Stormrunner's team found a key to Vector Sigma."

Blitzwing pumped both fists in the air with a whoop. Glory wanted to echo the sentiment, but she didn't want to startle Swift and so settled for a laugh of relief.

"Don't mean this war of ours is over, of course," Steelwing pointed out. "But it's a start."

"Means we're a lot further ahead than we used to be," Blitzwing insisted. "We finally got a chance of winnin' this thing. Maybe more 'Cons'll join up with us and actually fight now that they know we've got a shot at an actual future."

"We can hope," Glory replied. "I just hope we get to Chaar in time. I worry about everyone there."

"Not a lot we can do until Shockwave actually plans an assault," Steelwing replied. "And ol' One-Optic is holding out until we can get more allies. Let's just hope he doesn't wait too long."

Glory's fuel tank clenched at that. She understood that Shockwave wanted to be prepared before they moved to overthrow Galvatron, but at the same time she feared that if he delayed their attack on Galvatron any longer, there'd be no one left on Chaar to save.

"How're the kids settling in?" Steelwing asked.

"Little slaggers wouldn't settle in to recharge," Blitzwing grumbled. "Finally told them if they so much as squeaked I'd throw 'em out the airlock. They just laughed at me."

Steelwing smirked. "They're 'Con sparklings. They don't scare easy. You probably just made them feel right at home." She laughed as Blitzwing turned to glare at her. "Did you get all their names?"

"The two oldest are Valiant and Lancer," Glory replied. "The oldest femme is Firebolt, then the rest of the mechs are Stardust, Ricochet, Hornet, and Echo. And the littlest one is Swift." She patted the femme's back, and she responded by nuzzling against Glory's chest.

"Looks like you got yourself a little one to look after," Steelwing noted with a chuckle. "She's taken to you."

Glory chuckled. "I don't know how good of a mother I'd make… I never thought about creating sparklings of my own before."

"I think you'd do just fine, kid," Steelwing noted. "All right, Blitzwing, stay in the cockpit and make sure we don't fly into an asteroid field or anything. I'm going to head in the back to get cleaned up. I feel like a garbage transport."

"You smell like one too," Blitzwing retorted, and ducked as she took a swing at him. "I'll keep an optic out."

Steelwing nodded and left. Blitzwing flopped into the pilot's chair with a sigh, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling.

"The sparklings tired you out that much?" asked Glory.

"Eh… just not used to being around them. Forgot how energetic they could be. Especially with eight of 'em and not just one." He dimmed his visor and folded his hands over his abdominal plate. "Kinda forgot how wild you could get."

She laughed softly. "Was I really that bad?"

"You were kinda a handful. Especially starting out, when your uncle was still getting used to you and vice versa. The whole base had a lot of adjusting to do."

Glory looked down at the young femme in her lap. Swift had dozed off by this point, still curled around the toy dragon and nestled up against the Seeker's chassis like an electro-kitten seeking warmth. Funny… she'd practically fallen into her uncle's care unannounced, just like Swift had rather unexpectedly fallen into Glory's charge. Events had come full circle, it seemed. She just hoped she could be as good a caretaker as her uncle had been.

"Kid?"

Glory glanced up. "Blitzwing?"

"We gotta talk. About… this. About us."

A tremor went through her systems at the tone in his voice. She had a feeling she knew what this was about… and she honestly had no idea how to feel about it. Steelwing's "lovebirds" remarks earlier might have been in jest, but they were far more accurate than Glory wanted to admit. She knew Blitzwing liked her to some degree, and she would be lying if she claimed not to admire and even like him back.

She liked him… and that terrified her. She'd never felt this way toward anyone before, and she had no idea how to handle it.

"Look, if you're uncomfortable with me liking you, I understand," Blitzwing went on, staring straight ahead as he talked. "I know it's gotta be creepy, having a mech old enough to be your grand-creator taking a shine to you. That and your uncle and I were never exactly on the best of terms. Slag, he'd probably blow a gasket if he were still around." He blew out a loud sigh. "If you want me to leave you alone, just say so. I don't want to creep you out."

She took a moment to reply, trying to figure out how best to voice what she wanted to say. "You… you don't creep me out."

His visor flickered in surprise, and he turned to face her directly. "What?"

"You don't creep me out," she repeated. "I… I know I was a pest to you when I was little… but then you saved me from Galvatron. And then again from the scavengers…" She felt like she was rambling, embarrassing herself, but she pressed on. "I realized you weren't as hateful as everyone made you out to be. You could be a good mech… and I liked that." She hesitated, then pushed on. "I like that… I like you."

Blitzwing smirked a little. "Well, don't feel obligated to like me just because I saved your chassis a couple times."

"It's not just that," she protested. "It's more than that…"

"Hey, I was teasing," he told her. "Mechs do that." He cocked his head slightly. "So… we're okay? You don't mind an old-timer triple-changer having a sweet spot for you?"

"You're not that old," she assured him. "And yeah… I don't mind it at all."

Blitzwing gave her a long look. Then he pushed himself out of his chair and moved to stand behind her, gently looping his arms around her. She found herself leaning back, resting her helm on his chest, enjoying the simple contact. She felt… safe, for lack of a better word. Safe with him close to her, arms around her.

"Just sorry I didn't say it earlier," he murmured, tightening his grip briefly in a hug. "Wanted to, but couldn't get up the bolts to do it. And when you got caught… I was afraid I'd never get the chance."

She reached up to squeeze his arm. "Sorry to scare you."

"Nah, don't be. It all worked out, right? We got out, we got the sparklings… things are workin' out for us for once."

She nodded, hoping against hope that their streak of good fortune would hold. So much could go wrong between now and Chaar… and now the Decepticons – and Glory herself – had something to lose.