~Forbidden Fantasies~

By Ayngel

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or any of the characters or concepts within. I make no money from this story or any other about Transformers.

Warnings: None for this chapter, but there certainly are for the rest of the story, see individual chapters.

I recently rewrote this chapter. Quite a complicated set of goings on in it! I think I made Mirage a bit more empathetic.

Chapter 21: Showdown

Designation: Mirage

Autobot Intelligence Officer

Having decided to leave, I now surveyed the tidy room, the things packed neatly in boxes, and on the spotless berth, my electro disruptor and my dart gun. It was simple! All I had to do was just pick them up, attach the ED, activate it, and walk out of here. The security was that abysmal that I could probably do it without the ED. It would be hours, days even before they realized I had gone missing.

Yes, I would just go. And then I would …. do what?

Befriend some humans and persuade them to take me in.

No! It need not come to that. I had led hermit type existences before when I was alone and spying on the Decepticons. You just needed to procure a decent energy source and it was amazing how you could get by. And there was no shortage of fuel here. Even if it was crude and would probably make me ill to begin with.

My enthusiasm for potential independence waned at the thought of that. But if would be all right, I told myself. It would be unpleasant, but I would survive. And I'd just have to conduct all operations subtly so the humans didn't bring anything to the attention of the Autobots.

Then, to keep myself busy, also using human resources, I would rig up a communication system and try to contact my sister Moonracer on Cybertron, with a view to getting back there and helping the femmes out rather than this rabble.

Yes, that's what I would do. The femmes' situation was not exactly brilliant, but at least they were genuinely trying to destroy Decepticons and at least I'd be back on Cybertron.

Yes – I could do it! I'd just have to make sure the Autobots discovered no trace. And that the Decepticons, of course, didn't either. My energon chamber gave a lurch. The Cat would be a problem. So I would just have to conduct my operations far from her prying senses. And Soundwave's.

Of course, if my second transmission to Skywarp was responded to ….

But the transmission screen remained blank. And what did I expect? The Seeker thought I'd rejected him. But no doubt he'd gone and had a good laugh with his cronies and gotten over this 'affliction' about me. Well I didn't need him! I would do this alone. I would go to Cybertron, and I would forget any absurd notions about Decepticon Seekers, and start a new life.

First, however, a drink seemed very much in order. Not too much. Just enough for – what did the humans say, Dutch courage? Whatever the reference to some nationality on the European continent had to do with it. Yes – one or two. And then I would strike out alone in a whole new universe.

Designation: Cliffjumper

Warrior, Autobot Earth Contingent

I was suddenly horribly awake.

Immediately, it felt as though a bomb had gone off in my head. The need to flush my systems with a lakeful of low grade to exploded through my CPU. Wincing, I gradually unshuttered my optics.

When the world had stopped dancing, I could see the light was dim. Presumably, it was late in the day. A faint shaft shone from the portal above, dust particles circling slowly within it. How long had I been here? I had been on my way to do something. Something important. What in Kell was it? Hearing a groan come out of my vocaliser as I turned on to my side, I wracked my wrecked brains to remember.

My energon chamber lurched like a gestalt about to disassemble. I realized that at some stage I had purged it. And now I had the urge to again, even though I'd probably drained myself of everything. Heaving myself off the berth, I staggered into the ablution room and leaned over the washbay and – sure enough - threw up great tankfuls of nothing.

When the spasms subsided I dared to look in the mirror. It was not a pretty sight. My head erupted with a whole new wave of hammerings and I dragged myself back into the other room and collapsed on the berth.

After a little while, I felt better, and I managed to sit up and to keep down a long draught from the large cube of low grade which had been left helpfully next to the berth. Now I caught a whiff of disinfectant. Hound? He must have been back here and sorted things out. And that was nice. My spark gave a pleasant little twang.

But where was he now? I moved and my head pounded again. Geez, I was gonna have to do something about that ...

Pound pound pound …. Yes – must do something. What? Well, I could lie back down again and ride it out and hope that Hound would be here soon to say soothing, headache removing words. In the meantime, I could go get some painkillers from the medbay. But holy Primus, I did not feel like providing answers to the sort of questions Ratchet would ask.

No, think again. There was a differentsort of cure. What the humans called: "The Hair of the Dog". For them it was more alcohol, which was a kind of 'premium equivalent' that produced similar hangover effects. For me, it was more premium.

I knew where Hound kept quite a generous supply - in a cupboard in the ablution room. He often went for a tipple in the evenings, even though I wasn't supposed to know about it.

It was good stuff, and after several cubes in quick succession, I felt much better. But I suddenly had a lot of energy – too much – and I found myself up and pacing around. And I was irritable. Where was Hound? Why had he just taken off? Where was he when I needed some quality time? And he reckoned he was so considerate! So much better like that than some of the others ...

Well he wasn't! In fact, come to think of it, he was being just like that other one, that pitspawned pile of Alpha caste trash who ...

I froze inside. Who he'd gone to see! Yes, I remembered it now. A darkness swept through me. Who he'd gone to frag! Oh yes, I was sure, absolutely sure in my hungover and now rather re-overenergised state, that I was quite right about that

And I would prove it! I had a sudden need to do that, to show myself how you just couldn't depend on anyone. I did not mess around. Activating my comm, I punched in a certain private frequency.

"Mirage?" I said through clenched plates.

There was a pause, and then his stuck up, infuriating voice said: .::Oh – Cliffjumper. Sorry. I thought you were Hound!::.

The nerve of it! Had he no shame? Oh, but that was just it! With my plates still gritted I managed to say. .::Have you seen him? I thought he might be there with you ...::.

"Er – no, said the pithead. "Not now. He was in my quarters earlier. But I'll be seeing him in the rec room soon. He invited me there for a drink!"

I squeezed the com so tight I do not know how it did not implode. Hound had gone to his quarters. Then after they'd had a good frag, he asked him out!

"Thank you!" I snarled and snapped the com off.

I stood there and my intakes were heaving and my circuits were burning. How I hated being absolutely right about everything! And it was so not fair. I really liked Hound, and I'd been happy to be with Hound, and I'd never said anything to anyone about how Mirage had carried on before the war. Never done anything to hurt him, even though he hurt me so much. But it didn't matter. He didn't give a toss! And now, not content with having ruined my life once, he was going to do it again!

And Hound, poor nice understanding Hound, had been sucked in just like I once had been and was going along with it!

Hurting, I downed another cube of premium. And oh, it was good. It was starting to feel very good, It coursed along my circuits, stirring up a lust for action, a deep need to express exactly how I felt, had felt for years. He was soo going to get it! They were both going to get it! They'd know soon enough.

And the premium helped me come to such a 'reasonable' decision. Oh how right, so sensible, that an effective and permanent solution to the problem be found. One which would not only grant me vengeance, but remove a burden to the Autobots in the form of a mech who had had a Decepticon for a lover, and had never given a toss for their cause, or even been on their side.

Steadying myself, I went to the cupboard, got out my photon rifle and loaded it.

The Kell with the weapons ban in the rec room.

Designation: Mirage

Autobot Intelligence Officer

The trouble with having a few drinks before putting my plan in motion, was that the rec room was somewhat cosy. That was one problem. The other was Sideswipe, perched on a barstool opposite, and looking anything but unattractive.

And he was also a major source of information about Skywarp, a rather important factor given that a yearning to just grasp whether there might just be some chance with the Seeker before it was too late to find out had now invaded my processor. "Cheers," I said, raising my half filled cube of premium and then draining it rapidly. It was very passable stuff.

My inebriated companion raised his own cube. "Geez Mirage!" he said, "I reckon you could drink the rest of us under the table! I thought I was going it alone, tonight," he said, holding the cube up and watching the purple liquid swirl. "Cliffy was here around midday but … Kell! I don't know what had gotten into him. He took off outta here like a scalded Deceptocat!"

"Really?" I said, wishing I hadn't told CJ about Hound coming down. Sideswipe looked at me and grunted. "Excitable little piece of pit, CJ," he resumed his examination of the cube contents. "Cute, though. One of those compact types. Typical minibot. Lot of energy! If you like that sort of thing." Gulping the liquid back, he put the empty vessel down. Looking my way, he smiled a charmingly drunken smile.

At the other end of the bar I could see Gears regarding us disapprovingly. Another one of my greatest fans (not). I thought. Next to him, Huffer had his back to me and had ignored me, no doubt to keep in Gears' good books. My initial intentions were suddenly stronger, I took a deep draught from my cube. Opposite, Sideswipe shifted. Yes, well, I might not actually go right after here. A bit of rest perhaps. Then I would steal out. Maybe I would 'say goodbye' to Bluestreak before I went.

Or maybe I would enjoy a little 'entertainment' with this well built, sought after warrior lolling in front of me, renowned for his oversized connector and his hard and fast interfacing. It might be an apt 'parting shot. And he was a lot more appealing than his brother.

He had fragged Skywarp! It nudged at me sharply again. And of course, I knew exactly why I was procrastinating in here and not striking out into the great wide universe. I really did just have to know about it. Just in case ….

And I was not yet drunk enough to ask.

He took another sip and I watched the powerful cords and sinews working in his arm and shoulders. He was amazingly well put together, not a single malfitting part or uneven join. I could see what they saw in him. But then he was, I reminded myself, half Alpha. He gave me another lopsided grin. Yes, attractive. Even if he was a half caste.

And he was a half caste. I thought again of Bluestreak.

Bluestreak! In the last couple of days, I'd almost forgotten him. Now I thought of how I could make him remind me of Skywarp. Yes, one more night here with him was definitely a good idea.

But Sideswipe was looking at me in a way which told me he was more than happy to be the one to keep me company. His optics coasted seductively, and he shifted on the stool so his thighs were slightly more open than they needed to be, and the cover on his interface recess was just visible. He caught me looking at it and grinned.

And I thought he was going to suggest something outright. But instead, he came out with: "Y'know, Mirage, things have got a bit lonely lately since Sunny decided he and Bluie were a pair!"

Well – I was hardly expecting that! "What?" And my surprise must have shown.

He looked embarrassed. "Oh – you didn't know?'

I took a large sip from the cube, disappointed. It was not that I'd harboured anything romantic for Bluestreak. It was more that – well for one thing, I didn't berth just anyone. For another, I thought he, unlike most of them, had respected and appreciated me. Instead, he had stuck his connector in Sunstreaker – Sunstreaker of all mechs …..

It was a sharp reminder of my forgotten status here and the disrespect that went with it.

Well, he wasn't getting in my berth again! And now I did feel like leaving straight away.

Sideswipe saw my reaction. "I thought Sunny might not be the only one getting a piece ….." he said. "Pitspawned little slag, throwing his pretty frame around! No point in saying anything to Sunny though. Once he gets ideas about some punk's port and connector you might as well talk to a brick wall."

He was, I thought, not renowned for his eloquent phraseology. When I said nothing and drained the cube - my fourth, I realized - he did the same.

Anger and humiliation burned. But I determined not to show it. Sunstreaker! All show and fancy metal and bulging connectors, and Bluestreak's actions just demonstrated his own inferior Praxan taste.

I was well shot of him. And I was not going to leap out of here just on account at being miffed by that fact! I would leave when I was ready to go!

Along the bar I was aware of Gears saying something to Huffer and Huffer turning around to stare at us, briefly. Quickly, I helped myself to another cube and, cracking it, turned my attention back to the red twin.

Sideswipe was still looking at me with what seemed like an almost triumphant half smile, and his legs were still open, hand casually resting on one thigh. Need to know about Skywarp suddenly burned with renewed urgency. Skywarp, who had not – before I rejected him – been like Blusestreak, but had shown such a touching respect, and appreciation of the 'old' values.

Or had he? Given the choice, would the Seeker still prefer Sideswipe? Maybe his behaviour was all a show, and it was really Sideswipe he was after again, and I'd just been second best – or maybe even a means to get to him?

Was that why I hadn't heard back from him?

Knowing it was unwise but feeling unable to control myself, I took another large swig and gathered my courage, ignoring his seductive, obvious in intent smile.

"Sideswipe …." I began.

The door whooshed open and Hound came in. He looked in our direction and paused. Then he grinned. Instead of coming to us, he crossed to join Huffer and Gears, the latter grunting a greeting. My mind went back to the conversation in the filing room.

Sideswipe was grinning expectantly. "You were saying, Raj?' he said.

I did not want the trio along the counter to overhear! Glancing along the bar, I saw that Hound had sat down with them and they were laughing.

I leaned close to Sideswipe. "What was it like? Going with – a Seeker?" I whispered.

His optics widened. Obviously, this was not what he had been expecting. His hand moved decisively away from the thigh. "You know about it?"

"In my job – I sometimes find out about such things," I said as non threateningly as I could, feeling drunker, and therefore bolder. I looked straight at him. "Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me. I'm just curious!"

Sideswipe put his drink down and regarded me, his optics still wide. Then he smiled. "Yeah, I reckon I can trust you," he said, "despite what everyone ..."

Icy anger shot through me and it must have shown. "Sorry ..." he said. Then he leaned close again. "You really promise not to tell?" he whispered. "I don't make a habit of fragging Decepticons!" He looked behind him, but Gears and Huffer were still listening to whatever story Hound was recanting. "Go on!" I hissed.

Sideswipe let out a deep sigh. "Look - despite how many times it could have happened – with all that jet judo and everything - it was only once." he said. "I shot him down on the Iacon plains. We were both injured, and we were stranded. The only way we could make it back was to help each other. Helping turned into – well – something else!"

I was amazed to feel a pang of relief at this "explanation." And then, a rush of jealousy, which took me completely by surprise. "Tell me!" I insisted, too loudly. The three at the other end of the bar stopped talking and turned their heads our way again, and Hound gave me a little wave. I smiled what must have been a very phoney looking smile back, then returned my attention to the Lamborghini. "Sideswipe?"

He frowned. "Why you so interested, Raj? I kinda wouldn't want this to get back to Prowl!"

"It's just – intriguing, that's all!" I lied. "Like I said, I tend to get told these things. I just – you know – wondered how it compared to … say, an Autobot flier. And I promise you, even if the skies open up and the kingdom of Primus descends, I am not going to tell Prowl!" No indeed. Of that I was certain.

The other three were still talking. Sideswipe lowered his voice still more. "It was pretty darned good!" he said. "I mean …" there was just the hint of a blush, "I rate myself as pretty all right. But I like to – you know – dominate a bit. Skywarp - He fragged me. But he wasn't aggro about it. Kinda – sensuous, but a lot of energy. Touches, all over. Then when he flared his wings ….. mmmnnnn …. and he's a good kisser …"

Oh Primus, the most incredible images were suddenly in my processor! I was heating inside. His optics were bright. "This turns you on, doesn't it?" he said. "The memory does it for me too, as it happens!"

It did turn me on. Oh how much it turned me on! And the turned on-ness combined potently with the strength of feeling which had come through the initial transmission and that 'respect.' Envy and longing burned again, and a sadness that I'd rejected him and I would not be getting this. No, once I stepped out the door of the Ark, I would be on my own. I had rejected Skywarp. There would be no tender, loving sensuous touches and kisses for me.

The premium – and everything else - caught up with me. I felt suddenly weak, and I could not look at Sideswipe. I leaned on the bar, covering my face with my hand. A hand touched me lightly on the shoulder. "Hey," he said, "I'm sorry ..." He sounded concerned, but puzzled. "Mirage?"

There was the sound of a stool being moved, and now Hound had joined us. He smelled comfortingly of warm engine grease. "Hey ..." His hand was now stroking my arm gently. "You OK?"

"I think he's had one too many," Skywarp said.

And it was just then, as Hound's hand lingered on my arm, and Sideswipe sat there quite touchingly concerned, that things happened - very fast. There was a sound of hurried footsteps in the corridor, and the door whooshed open. Somebody entered – and then the barrel of a photon rifle was suddenly being aimed right at us - with Cliffjumper swaying on the end of it.

I remember now that Cliffjumper's optics went straight to the hand on my arm. Hound whipped it away, but the minibot's optics flashed wildly and his face flushed with fury. With remarkable speed, the gun was suddenly pointing in my face.

His lip curled. "You lousy piece of pitspawned pit!" he snarled.

It had a very sobering effect. Gears and Brawn were off their stools in an instant, as were Sideswipe and I. Hound jumped back next to me, and then all of us were flattened back against the bar, our hands in the air. Then Hound was saying: "Now ... take it easy, Cliffie ..." but the gun remained where it was.

"You shut the frag up!" The barrel swivelled to point at Hound. We all, instinctively, raised our hands higher. The gun swivelled along the line, and I sensed incredulousness, everyone thinking what the frag is all this about? Yet, now it was obvious that Cliffjumper was drunk. Clearly – I thought – this was a premium induced tirade. It did not occur to me that I might be a particular target, or that Hound and I were the source of ire.

I did, however, think that Hound might have some reservations now about his choice of boyfriend,

"Nobody move!" Cliffjumper snarled.

The minibot swayed. He was very drunk, definitely. But the gun was pointing at me again, the look in his optics, venomous. Now, it dawned that I played a significant part in his half crazed fury. My spark sank. In his premium saturated world, what have I done? I thought. Could I not even intake air in this place without annoying somebody? Even when they were drunk?"

His optics narrowed. "You shparkless dubble crossin' no good pile o'pit!" he seethed, and he took a step closer.

The seriousness of the situation slammed home. Like this, he could actually fire. And I would have to move very fast indeed. I struggled hard to shake off my inebriation. The gun did not scare me. I'd had enough weapons pointed at me in my time, and I could deal with it. But the existence of just another expression of Autobot dislike and accusation – that could rattle me. Sobering, I initiated the emotional sense receptor shutdown sequence, so I could be objective.

There was a long moment where Cliffjumper just stood clutching the gun. Then sobs sounded from my right. "Cliffy – please ..." Huffer wailed. Sideswipe found his voice at last, then, and said "Easy, now bro ..." and Gears grunted.

"Shut up!" snarled Cliffjumper.

The gun moved along us again, and our hands rose once more in unison. "You think I'm a fraggin' eejit don't yahs?" he sneered. "Jush some fraggin' dumb grunt who's too stoopid to see what's goin' on ..."

Huffer was still whimpering. Cliffjumper's optics shifterfrom me and then they were upon Hound, like ice fire. "We're through you dirdy two timin' shit!" he spat.

Hound made a noise. And now, of course, Cliffjumper's motives were obvious. Well, partly. A thing between me and Hound - the icing on the cake of a more general contempt for me. That contempt would have made me feel sick, had I not suppressed my emotions. As for the rest – it would have been quite laughable - given all the circumstances - had it not been so dangerous and tragic.

Trying to keep my voice as calm as possible, I said: "You've got this wrong, CJ."

"Yes, ..." said Hound beside me.

But Cliffjumper was not to be fobbed off with such glib phraseology. His optics became slits. "You ...!" he snarled, and I saw his hand tighten on the weapon. "I carneven think of the wight words to descwibe wadda lowlife piece o' pit you are!"

"I can assure you there's nothing between Hound and I," I said. But he ignored me. "Aha!" he spat. "Not the tough Alpha mech now are ya! Pathetic – you are!"

So it was a general anti Mirage thing! And anger started to break through the suppression. Why was I always on the end of this? I reset the sequence, struggling to stay objective. But rage rose up like a fire, burning in my circuits at the sheer injustice.

The barrel hovered. A ripple passed through everyone. "Don't you all just stand there and defend him!" snarled Cliffjumper. "I reckon you couldn't trust 'im as far as you could throw 'im. He doesn't give scrap about nothin' but himself! He doesn't even wanna be a 'bot!"

Anger broke through again. Anger, and bitter indignation. "You've never given me a chance, Cliffjumper!" I said.

Huffer made a movement and the minibots attention turned to him again "Shut up Huff! Don't fraggin' distract me!" But he wavered, and it was sufficient opening. I lunged, knocking a stool over, and in one move I had the gun out of his hand and him on the ground, pinned face down. Wresting his arm behind him, I placed the gun at the back of his head.

"Wrong, wrong, wrong. Bad, bad move," my logic circuits were telling me as the emotional inhibitors struggled to reassert. But I could not stop the override.

My voice was smooth and cold. "You were saying, Cliffjumper?"

"You piece of pit!"

I tightened my grip. "Say again, would you?"

Then the others were behind me, Sideswipe's voice saying: "Mirage .. go easy ..." Hound's hand on my shoulder, Huffer still snivelling and the door whooshing. Gears had gone.

I looked up and gave them all in turn a steely glare. "I'll deal with this!" I said, "Nobody try and stop me - if you don't want me to pull the trigger, that is!"

Horror froze on their faces. There was no need, of course. I would not actually have done it. But they thought I would.

And I saw then, just how great was the rift between us. They were scared of me. Knew, what I was capable of. And never was there a moment when they dreaded me using it against them. Nor could they forget the past, or my connections. They would never trust me. And now I was proving them right.

And I should just let Cliffjumper go, swear my Autobot loyalty, declare death to all Decepticons and prove them wrong! But I could not. Cliffjumper needed – they all needed – to show some respect. It was not as simple as that.

Hound was saying "Raj ..." softly - in his counsellor voice - but I ignored him. I returned my attention to my captive.

He had begun to struggle. "Traitor!" he yelled. "He used to frag a Decepticon!" He ougtta be one!" I bent low over him and lowered my voice. "Swindle was not a Decepticon then, and that has nothing to do with the here and now. I have been a loyal Autobot, I have saved your frames more often than I care to imagine, there is nothing between me and Hound – and you will apologise, Cliffjumper!"

Behind me I heard Hound whisper: "Do it, Cliffie!" I felt another ripple go through the others, but they held their positions.

But Cliffjumper did not do it. "Go to Kell!" he rasped through clenched plates, and he suddenly sounded coldly, horribly sober.

"Life wrecker!" He hissed. "You ruined my life. You're still doing it! It's what you do, you selfish pile of pit. You ruined Swindle's life. That's all you know how to do, Mirage. You should have gone to jail instead of him!"

And I don't know whether it was mention of that highly sensitive issue which made me lose concentration, or I was still drunker than I thought, or his drunken state had heightened his already considerable strength, but somehow he wrested himself from my grip. Before I knew it he was on his feet and a black fist slammed fairly and squarely into my abdomen, sending me reeling backwards. The gun went flying.

Then it all happened. I felt Sideswipe and Hound grab my arms, but I whacked backwards with both before they could get a proper grip and sent them both flying. Huffer made a feeble grab for my opponent, but a similar fate befell him, and then they were all on the ground and he was on his feet and squaring up to me. "All right!" he yelled "fair fight! C'mon then!"

I was dimly aware of Sideswipe advancing on me, but I turned and hit him again, and he fell backwards, crumpling across the bar. Then there was Huffer, stricken, wide opticed. "Leave!" I snapped at him. He didn't hang around. I turned to look for Hound, but he was lying on the ground where I had knocked him out cold. Damn! I hadn't hit him that hard. Had I?

Then Cliffjumper was in front of me, all quivering compact red metal and hissing intakes. His optics settled on the gun in my hand. "You want this?" I said.

"Decepticon slut!" he snarled.

Another surge of anger. I hurled the gun against the wall above the bar and it bounced off with a loud clang. Then I advanced on him. Grabbing him and lifting him up, I hurled him into the other wall. He hit it with a crash and slid down to land in a heap at its base.

Out of the corner of my optic, Sideswipe was trying to move, but he groaned and collapsed again. Then I was standing there, panting, aware that I'd used up a lot of energy - and Cliffjumper was getting up! He had energon leaking from his upper arm and dints everywhere. And now he was upset, in an intensely emotional way I had not seen before. "I loved you once," he yelled. "I loved you more than Swindle did and you sold out on me, you pile of aft, it counted for nothing, did it?"

Some distant memory flickered, then. A long time ago. Before the war – Iacon – Sky City – Swindle ….

…. something about the mine at Y'il Halco. Deals. Swindle again.

And – Cliffjumper! I stared at him. Something – there was a gap in my memory. In Mordac. Starscream did things. I forgot things. I forgot – something about Cliffjumper?

It changed things.

But he was facing up again. "Cliffjumper, I said. "I've been hasty. Wait …"

But he came at me like a demon, all fists and teeth and fury. I avoided him, scooping him up easily. I threw him down, truly intending this time to merely disable him, but of course, he was very injured by then, and I was not thinking straight.

He was still. My energy reserves draining fast, I staggered sideways and clutched the bar next to Sideswipe's groaning form, and everything dissolved into a grey mist.

There were feet running, metal clanging on metal. Then the door was whooshing open, and all of a sudden many Autobots were in the room. Bluestreak was there, and Sideswipe was getting up, and then Sunstreaker was in my face yelling I'll kill you…" but large hands grabbed hold of him and pulled him roughly back. Through the haze, I glimpsed Brawn and Prowl.

Stunned, I felt my hands forced behind me, heard Ironhide's voice saying: "one move and I will kill you, punk!" and Huffer was back and crying over the inert form of Cliffjumper. And now I could see Ratchet coming through the doors and then was down with Cliffjumper. And Hound was up, and Trailbreaker had appeared and had his arm around him. Somewhere Sunstreaker was still shouting, but Sideswipe was saying "leave it Sun ... I'm OK ..."

My shoulder was wrenched as my hands were dragged together and I felt handcuffs click around my wrists, and I was hauled to my feet. Then Prowl's face was in front of mine. I tried to say: "This is a private matter…. perhaps you should mind your own business …" even though I knew there was no chance whatsoever of this succeeding.

And, sure enough, that supercilious voice was saying: "I'm afraid it isn't Mirage! I'm arresting you on a charge of serious assault, and behaviour unbecoming to an Autobot officer - oh, and one count of possessing an illegal cloaking device ..." I could sense unmistakeable satisfaction. "But he had a gun ..." I muttered, "What cloaking device ...?" but nobody was listening.

And as I slumped, exhausted and beyond anger, distress, anything, and allowed myself to be led to the brig, I really could not fathom why I had not just left in the first place and never gone near the rec room at all.

Yes – rewrite definitely an improvement!