((I know a lot of you were upset over the skip from last chapter- but believe it or not, it was the better option. I was struggling- and I would rather be able to actually give you guys chapters rather than, y'know, be stuck with writers block for months or years at a time.

So I am sorry if I disappointed, but… well, there you have it. You are all quite welcome to do oneshots of what you think happened, or extrapolate theories of what could have happened. I would love to read them.

Anyways, here's chapter 21. I'm recently re-watching Transformers Prime, and had the urge to work on this again. Part of me wonders if I should go back to the shorter chapter style that I had used with GIBTH. On the flipside, I hope you like the surprise reveal at the end of this chapter.))

Prima was taken care of several centuries later. Once her spawn was old enough to have learned all there was to learn about being a Prime, Prima had called for me to come to her for her release from duty.

I had hardened up after the slaughter of Megatronus' troops, and emotions were hard sometimes… But it felt good to kill her. I didn't linger with the kill, but I savored it. She faded slowly, so slowly… and it felt good to kill her. A petty revenge for what I had been ordered to do, if you will.

The new prime was… Not quite so nice. Sentinel Zeta was a… pest. He had originally planned on being an elite guard for his mother- and despite his youth, he had obtained the position of Sentinel. So, once Prima had met an unfortunate 'accident', he had declared himself Prime, and he and the council began to plot things that he did not share with me.

I took up position as the founder of Spec-ops, and found myself training a few sparse recruits. Spec-ops was… well, publicized, to be honest. The council thought that it was for the best, and so the council managed to convince Sentinel that it was the correct thing to do. Alpha Trion had disagreed- and so had I. But Alpha Trion and Sentinel butted heads- the archivist was very against a lot of what the young mech did.

And Sentinel was too stubborn to listen to his 'uncle'.

Stupid, stupid mech.

The only thing that the both of them agreed on was that the artifacts of the Primes of old should only be held in the vaults, never to be used by those who would use them for wrongdoing.

Regardless, as the founder of the Ops, I was required to teach those who were qualified, and to give out missions that they were able to do. Sentinel had a vast list of things that needed to be done- from running diplomatic chores to slaughtering those that Sentinel thought as scum.

I was always scouting for new members. Very rarely was I at 'home', or whatever you would call the base that we operated out of. I had a young mech that was good at paperwork to handle everything while I was gone, and who was a very good public face for the Ops. I was fairly well known still, as an ex gladiator, and that wasn't the sort of business that I was supposed to advertise. We chewed through a vast number of recruits. Not everyone got to become an officer, or even made it to the status of 'grunt'. A large amount of bots wanted to become one of the Ops because it was considered a 'high honor' by the council.

Those who couldn't hack the harsh training regiments that I put into place were swiftly shuffled out.

Everyone went through the Seven Rules of Pain first. If they couldn't last or acclimate to the Seven Rules, then they were swiftly removed from the program. If they managed to survive it and weren't removed from the program prematurely, they were given stealth training, followed by combat tactics and executions. No one had managed to best me yet. I was the ultimate goal for them to beat in the end.

The need for recruits had brought me down into some backwater part of Praxus. I took from all over the world- and it wasn't uncommon for me to bring mecha from all stations in life if they fit where I needed them to.

Praxus was… A place I usually avoided. One reason- JadeRush. It turns out that JadeRush and Blackwind had settled down there. I had seen them- and had felt the bond rush back whilst I had been on a job. She had looked up at the same time I spotted her, but I had managed to get out of her sight before she could spot me. I… I admit a guilty pleasure- checking in on her whenever I had to go to Praxus. She and Blackwind had… Well, they had been bonded last time I had been here.

I was drawn to one quarter of the city regardless, and found myself besieged by a strange sensation. My sister suddenly bull-rushed my spark, shoving through the bond and linking me to something small and faint. Another bond, perhaps. I wasn't sure. Moments after, there was sharp pain that I hadn't experienced for a long time. It made me pause on the roof top as the bond in my spark suddenly disappeared. Odd… I was on the right side of town. It shouldn't have been gone.

Then I got a ping to my comm line.

::NightStrike? I… I didn't mean to do it. I just… I got so mad…:: Blackwind's voice took me an age to recognize, and in an instant I realized what happened.

The bond wasn't coming back.

I sighed, curling a servo to my aching chest plates.

::Please… What do I do? I didn't… She wont wake up, 'Strike. She wont wake up.::

I swung towards the housing sector that they lived in, quickly taking the back streets and side roads to their little abode. ::I will be there soon.::

It took less time than I thought to get there. I snuck in through the window of their berthroom, and was assaulted by the wailing of a youngling. I hadn't been aware that they had a child, but I dismissed the youngling for a moment. Fear and pain drifted over the tiny sensation in my spark, and I realized that the sobbing youngling was the cause. My sister had put a small bond to the youngling on my spark. Not something that would last as long as an actual parental bond, but….

Shutting the window, I crept down a set of stairs, leaving the youngling to cry on the berth.

Blackwind was at the bottom, with my sister curled in his arms. The bland green of her armor had faded- and an invasive gray had overtaken everything that she was. Blackwind gave me a distressed look. His servo was covering her chestplate. "Please. Make her work again. She… I…"

I came down, and settled with one knee on the floor. "What did you do?"

His servo moved, and he showed the massive dent that caved in her chest plates. "We… we were fighting." he said softly. "It… It was something so stupid too. She wanted to move- said this neighborhood was getting too rough. I didn't want to. It escalated and… I didn't mean to hurt her, Nightstrike. I really didn't."

"But you did." I gave him a serious look. "You hurt her. You killed her. You killed your mate, the mother of your child."

"I know!" He wailed. His fingers clenched on her armor, and dented the feeble armor again. "I didn't mean to!"

I made a displeased look, and slapped his servo away. I had no idea what Jade was thinking. He had always been unstable, ever since I had made his processor permanently damaged. This had been long in the coming. "It doesn't matter now. She's dead and gone… And I'm about to orphan your sparkling."

He hesitates, and looks like he would flee. He pauses though, optics shifting, and a somber look comes over him. "I remember. You said you would be the one to kill me. It's fitting. Yes. I deserve to die after what I did to her, and what he had to witness. You will take care of my mechling, wont you?"

"I am glad you understand. And yes. I'll take my nephew." I ease her out of his grip, and look at him expectantly. "Give me a dagger. I know you have one."

"You've changed." The other side of Blackwind muses quietly. He draws a dagger, and hands it to me. "You hurt more when your sire and carrier died."

"I've had practice dealing with death." The knife is old- and surprisingly not cared for. "Shame on you for not taking care of your weapons. It will do though."

"My apologies." The mech gave me a vague smile, and opened his arms for me. "Thank you for this. Take care of my little mech. Make sure he's as strong as you. I am sorry for what I did to your-"

He didn't finish. A knife to the spark silenced him, and I got up to go back to the berth room. His flickering optics had followed me all the way to the second floor, before he'd died. Now it would simply look as if he'd killed his mate, and then committed suicide out of grief.

I opened the door to the upper room easily. The mechling was still screaming, but he was growing quieter and quieter as agony took over his spark. I eased up to him, and took him into my arms. He was a strange silver color, something odd coming from a pale green femme and a black armored mech. He opened his optics, lubricants dripping free, and fixated me with a terrified look.

He had the same optics I do.

"Who are you?" He chokes out, fingers clawing at his chest. He clings to me regardless, and I begin to drain away the pain from his spark from the bond.

I soothe his hands away, and cradle him close. It's not hard to draw upon my memories of caring for JadeRush. I press his digits to my lips and gently distract him from the pain by pulsing my weak bond to him. "I'm Nightstrike. I was a sister to your carrier, little one."

"Aunt Nightstrike? Carrier mentioned you…" He presses his digits closer. Trusting optics weep as they gaze at me, and my spark pulses in agonized sympathy. "Sire did… Sire did bad things… I couldn't stop him from getting angry and hurting carrier again. And now they're both gone…"

"They are." No point in lying to the mechling. "You're coming with me now. I'll take you with me to where I live, and we'll get you taken care of there. I'll make you strong, so you wont ever be powerless again. Does that sound okay?"

Vulnerability filled his optics as he stared up at me. It was going to suck to have to break him in and make him strong- but I realize now that if I had raised JadeRush like I had been, she might still be alive to gripe at me for it. I'm not going to make the same mistake again.

"I'd be able to stop fights?"

"And finish them." I adjusted him against my chest, and rifled through my subspace.

Such expressive optics… It was the same reason I wore my own visor.

"I don't want to hurt anyone though."

I gave him a vague smile. "You'll learn to like it. Now… I need you to put this on. It's a little big, but I think it'll fit just fine."

Jade's old visor is pressed into his tiny hands. His spark throbs, and I use my own to drain away the pain as best as I can. He turns it over, looking at it intently. "This is like yours?"

I nod. We ease out the window, and I swing us up onto the roof of his old home. I don't bother taking any of his things besides a hastily snagged photo frame of his carrier and him- old things are just going to dredge up bad memories for him. "It was originally my carrier's visor, and then it became your carrier's visor when she was young. It is yours now, mechling. Put it on. Your optics are too expressive. It should help with any light sensitivity you have as well."

He fumbles with it, and I end up just shoving it into place for him. It covers most of his face. He's painfully small for one his age, and I wonder just why he is so small when most of our family had been larger than myself. He whines slightly. "It's really tight…"

I nod, and recline on the roof. I just… need a moment to rest. "You are very small. It's going to be difficult training you. You're going to need to learn to be tough despite being small."

He wilts in my arms, and shrinks into himself slightly.

"Don't worry about it for now, little one. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. We need to run you through the seven rules first before we get to fighting. You'll need to be strong. Can you do that, little one?"

Silence stretches between us for a very short time, before he nods. "I can do it."

I pet his helm idly. "Hold tight to your conviction, youngling. You'll need it. Now… I never did ask. What is your name?"

A puzzled look crossed his face, and across his spark. He was leaning more into the bond- and I was too. We had both lost someone tonight, no matter what they had done. "Wouldn't carrier have told you about me?"

"No." I say bluntly. "That's for a story at another time. What is your name?"

"Oh… Well, I'm Jazz. I like music and stories."