A/N: Sorry for the late post! The power's been going out all day, and I've got a laptop battery that dies two minutes after being unplugged XD;
SezWho- I'm glad you were amused by Siren's situation with his two superiority-complex partners, I hope I'm doing well in shaping out Hosehead's personality (as I'm pretty much making it from scratch XD). Thank you, daahhling!
Blackpanther - I can't help it, I have to end every chapter with a cliffhanger, it'd be no fun to end things with closure! Thanks for your review!
To all my wonderful Readers and Reviewers, Please Enjoy! ^_^
A low hum resonates through the large, dark hangar, the air cold. Prowl walks along quietly around a decent-sized ship—a space-worthy ship. So this is what Sentinel has been hiding from him, an entire armada of vessels that are both worthy of space and of war. These would probably be the first line of defense against a foreign invading force—but why keep them secret? Perhaps letting the existence of the ships be known would incite unrest amongst the citizens of Cybertron, who know good and well that travel beyond the atmosphere is forbidden.
Perhaps Sentinel just wanted to keep Prowl under his control.
The white-clad Praxian turns his helm and looks over to a mech adorned in Special Ops armor, "You've known about these ships here? All this time?"
Jazz raises an optic ridge, "Ah know a lotta things that you probably don't, Prowl. It's my job. That's why Ah wish you'd just start comin' to me whenever you've got a problem like this, cuz Ah'm the best resource that you got." Walking over, he opens the hull of the ship before glancing to his friend, "You sure you wanna do this?"
Prowl frowns lightly in determination and nods, "Positive."
A rumbling growl sounds from behind the two mechs as Grimlock's towering form steps out from the shadows towards the ship, "Didn't want any extra passengers, Praxian."
"Yes, well there's nothing you can say or do to change the fact; I'm coming with you. There's no telling what Nightbeat has gotten himself into… There may be need for a clear-thinking mind, and less so for a set of pounding fists."
Grimlock scoffs, "If the kid got himself into what I think he did, he's gonna need a lot more than Praxian's squishy processor." The Dinobot's massive arm shoves Prowl aside as he enters the ship.
Prowl's door panels jitter in vexation for a moment before he looks to Jazz, "Jazz, while I'm gone… Makeshift may not have been the only mole in the system, and I—"
Jazz interrupts him, "Ah've got it covered, Prowl, you're leaving the home front in good hands. You just get those kids back where they belong, alright?" Reaching out, he holds his friend's shoulder, the two lifelong friends locking optics for a moment before nodding.
"Thank you, Jazz…" Turning, Prowl steps up the entrance ramp and boards the ship, closing up the hatch before walking to the cockpit. He pauses and raises an optic ridge in disbelief when he finds Grimlock to be sitting in the pilot's seat, "Oh, really?"
Grimlock grunts in reply, "Praxian like you probably never flown a real ship, only pretend-flown in training game." He turns his helm, red visor gleaming in satisfaction to find the Praxian unable to return the argument, "What I thought."
Prowl frowns and sits in the co-pilot's seat, "And I suppose you're a hardened veteran in the area?"
Grimlock onlines the controls before dropping his fist on the thrust controls, "Nope."
The Praxian's mouth drops agape in shock, but before he can begin his verbal assault on the Dinobot, the ship lurches forward, smashing through one of the hangar walls before shooting up towards the stars.
Jazz rubs the back of his helm as he observes the considerable hole in the hangar wall, wondering how he's going to explain it to his superiors before letting his optics follow the ship in the far distance, "Ya owe me big time for this one, Prowler…"
"Hey, kid, c'mere."
His voice was always raspy, like he'd been laughing a lot, or like he'd been drinking a lot.
"Look how big you're gettin', I can hardly carry ya!" He laughed as he lifted a small, midnight blue sparkling into his arms, "I missed you, son… I'm sorry I was gone so long, we had a really hard case this time…"
The child hugged his father's neck, content just to have him home again.
"You been good for your mother? Uh?" He smiled as his son nodded to him, "Good, that's good. You're a good boy, Nightbeat."
A kiss was pressed to the child's cheek, and the little one wiped it, earning another chuckle from his father.
"How about you 'n me go down to the channel, skip some stones? Yeah, just you 'n me, kid. Cuz you're my favorite boy."
I gasp lightly as my optics flicker on, my vision blurry with liquid for a moment. A sharp cough vents through my intakes as I try to move, and I jolt when I feel a large, warm hand gently press against my chest to keep me lying down. Raising my hand to block the bright light glowing above, I struggle to see where I am, whose hand is on me.
"Take it easy, kid, you're alright now…" A deep, raspy voice whispers.
Taking a moment, I let my air circulation slow down to an easy rhythm, a cold sweat gripping my face and neck. I'm anxious and nervous. I'm scared even. I can't get my hopes up, I won't. Only, I think it's too late for that now.
After a few moments of silence, the hand slides away from my chest and moves to my back, helping me sit up. My vision is still blurry from Lockdown's EMP generator, and my chassis sways lightly as I sit up, my words slurring a bit as I speak, "My friends…"
"They're here, too. They're in the next room, Fera's taking care of them. Your little friend—the blue one, Siren… he been missing that hand for long?"
"Missing his—hand?" My equilibrium decides to give at the startling news and I nearly fall off the berth I've been placed on, but a set of large hands keep me upright. Siren lost a hand? It must've been the one that dark stone was lodged into…
"Yeah, but no worries, kid, Fera's settin' him up with a new one, he's gonna be just fine… Seems like the red one, Hosehead, knew what he was doing when he made the cut. Probably saved the lil kid's life."
Hosehead… I don't know anything about that mech, but already he's done a lot for me and Siren. Why? Where'd he come from? Who is he? How did he and Siren even cross paths, and why did he tag along?
I shake my helm lightly in an attempt to clear my vision. Slowly, I reach my hand out and lightly touch the arm of the tall mech standing in front of me. He must notice the way I'm shivering, and he leans forward, wrapping his arms around me suddenly. I tense at the unexpected gesture, uncertain, but then my exhaustion wins as I let myself sink into the hold, resting my forehead on the mech's broad shoulder.
"You've been through a lot, huh kid…"
I can only take in a sharp, trembling breath of air in response, unable to speak. What do you say to a bot that you've thought was dead for the past decade? It takes me a moment to notice a quiet, strange sound is leaving my vocalizer. Something I haven't heard myself make in a long time.
I'm crying.
The arms hold me closer as my cheeks burn, cold tears leaving trails of smudged dirt across them. A steady, deep sparkbeat drums in the wide chest of the mech, the sound of it so familiar.
So familiar… yet at the same time… not.
I feel a sudden tightness in my gut, a knot twisting and burning coldly like a ball of molten steel. Something isn't right. This mech, everything about him seems so familiar, but something just doesn't match up.
The mech realizes my hesitance and slowly releases me from his hold and bends over a bit so we're optic-level, his golden optics reflecting my own. Slowly, my vision finally clears, and I can see his face.
My voice is squeezed in my throat, leaving it in a whisper, "You're not him… You're not the Capri Detective…"
The mech's face scrunches up a bit in a look of guilt as he rests his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it lightly, "Not exactly, kid…"
Fera nibbles on her lip as she tries to concentrate on soldering the delicate wires in Siren's wrist, making the final calibrations and attachments for the youngling's new hand. It's difficult, however, with the pale blue mech's non-stop chatter.
"And so when Orion said the sphere map thingy was made of this super rare ore that only came from one quadrant of the galaxy, Nightbeat decided that it'd be the best trail to follow. That's kinda crazy, don't ya think? I dunno why he thinks going the place where the sphere was made would make sense, and what if it wasn't really made there, what if the ore was shipped to another planet and then the sphere was constructed there instead? Does it matter more where the sphere was made or where the materials came from? Either way, I dunno why it even matters." Siren's optics glance around the medical infirmary of the Monacus as he speaks, looking anywhere but at the gorgeous woman repairing him.
"Well, you said the sphere needs a special kind of tool to read the map, right? He probably figures they'd have the right kind of technology to do that wherever it came from." Hosehead glances over to the chatty mech before returning his attention to the wounds he's treating on himself.
Siren pauses, "Yeah… Yeah, I guess that makes sense, but I don't know if it even matters now."
Fera blinks and glances up to the young mech's face from her work, "Oh? Why not?"
Siren blushes as he meets the woman's emerald green gaze, "Well, um, because… We found the Capri Detective, right? Your partner is Nightbeat's dad… he's the one who gave Nightbeat the map in the first place, so he'll know what it leads to. There's really no need to go through all the extra trouble now…"
Fera tilts her head, "Actually… I'm not so sure."
"About what?" Hosehead raises an optic ridge and looks over to the woman.
"I'm not so sure that the Detective knows what that map leads to… It's one of the reasons he's been looking for your friend."
Hosehead frowns lightly, "What? That doesn't make any sense, why would he not know what's on the map? He's the one that gave it to Nightbeat, right?"
A look of concern crosses Siren's face, "Yeah, why else would he have given it to Nightbeat if he didn't even know what it was? And…" Siren pauses, voice becoming quiet as he becomes deep in thought, confused, "Why hasn't he tried making contact with Nightbeat sooner?"
A sudden crack from the next room over pulls the attention of the three to the door of the private medical room. Fera stands and goes to the door, opening it and looking in, "Is everything alright—? Oh!"
Siren and Hosehead quickly stand and go to the doorway to see what the commotion is, optics widening as they enter just in time to see Nightbeat's fist meet the jaw of the tall mystery mech in dark blue armor.
"Nightbeat!" Siren charges forward and rams his shoulder into the tall mech, effectively shoving him a few steps away from Nightbeat. Taking a protective stance in front of the berth his friend is on, the small bot glares up at the dark blue one, "What'd you do to him?"
The mech catches himself on his peds as he's shoved away by the small, loud-mouthed kid, wiping a smudge of energon away from his lip as he locks his jaw back into place, "I didn't do anything, kid, take it easy!"
Fera catches Hosehead's arm as the red Colonist takes a step forward to join the intervention, "Hold it, Red, let's find out what the deal is." She huffs as Hosehead pulls his arm free of her hold.
"You lied to me! You sick fragger!" Nightbeat's shout suddenly interrupts the confusion in the air.
Fera's eyes widen as she looks to her partner, "What is he talking about?"
The dark blue mech shakes his helm and frowns, "Stay outta this, Fera."
Nightbeat roughly wipes the dirty stains from his cheeks away and clenches his teeth, "You're just another dirty bounty hunter! How do you know so much about me? Why the frag do you have this?" He holds up a crystal cube that has a laser-etched image of himself as a sparkling, something that his father did, indeed, own.
"Kid, you gotta calm down, listen—your father gave that to me! I've had it for years!"
"Liar! You probably mugged it offa him! Or—Or you probably stole it! You work with Lockdown, don't you?" Nightbeat takes another swing as the tall mech tries getting near him again, Siren contributing a kick to the dark blue mech's shin, earning a growl.
"Stop it, kid, you're not thinking straight!"
Fera frowns sharply and steps up, shooting a sharp glare at her companion in dark blue, "Shut up, Devcon, and just tell him the truth—tell us all the truth!"
Nightbeat's optics flare and widen as he pauses, a heavy silence dropping like a ton of dead weight, "Devcon?"
The dark blue mech looks to the young Sector Capri native and nods, optics dim, "Yeah, kid. Sorry I never sent you any birthday cards."