An End in Sight

by KayleeChiara

From Mission City to Cybertron, this story blends the lives of humans and Cybertronians as they deal with life, politics, friendships and romance as they struggle to end the war, work together, and seek a way to restore Cybertron and the AllSpark. G1/Bayverse (sans AoE). This is not a fast-paced action piece, more like a day in the life, but give it shot anyways? No Slash. Thx!

34. Earth - Part 32

Le Legal Stuff: Transformers is not mine, just my OCs and this story not intended for sale or to infringe. Update: 04/14 article 'Jagex Transformers Universe Character' has Decepticon femme, Duststorm. Any similarity is purely accidental and not intended to infringe on any legal rights.

A/N: Thank you to Guest, 2211Nighthawk, and enmused, for reviewing! To my other readers, if you have the time, post a review and let me know what you think, good or bad. It helps! Thank you! A special thank you to Tek-Lord2 for placing this story on favorite's, I hope I can continue to earn that spot on your page.

A/A: A very humble apology! A reader rightly pointed out I'd ref'd Simmons and Dutch and I said no. DOH! I rechecked my story and indeed in Chapter 14, I wrote Charlotte having asked Simmons and Dutch for help. Gah! I'm very sorry for the mistake and I sincerely appreciate the heads-up from my reader. Really! Thank you for pointing out my error. I shall see if, as the story moves along, if I can draw them back in. Continuity in a story this large with so many characters is proving… difficult.

A/411: Re mini-bots classed as mini-cons… thing is I never watched Armada so… my spin. Bots are classified into four major groups: Titan, Bot, Mini, Micro. Bee and Cosmos fall into the mini-bot class, whereas Wheelie, Brains, the Decepticon Cassettes and Autobot Recordabots fall into the micro category. Unlike Armada, mini-cons do not increase power they're just smaller Cybertronians. And, speaking of the recordabots, as a special request from a reader, I added Blaster's symbiots in for a cameo for fun. Hope you enjoy!

A/Q: What do people mean when they call a character a Mary Sue? I really don't know. Anybody?

A/N: Last note, with AOE due to release shortly I wanted to remind folks I won't be following the AOE plotline. I hope that doesn't disappoint or disqualify this story for the Transformers Movie category… But, I've already plotted my story to the end and if I don't get to writing I'll never get there… so...

And to those who haven't reviewed but are still reading, thank you too!

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Cybertronian/Earth Time Reference:
Astrosecond/about .273 seconds
Breem / about 8 minutes
Groon/about 1 Earth hour
Orn/about 1 Earth day
Quartex/1 Earth month
Orbital Cycle/about 1 Earth year
Vorn/about 83 Earth years

Chapter 3 – Earth Campaign (Part 32) - 6 days after the Liberation of Chicago

— Decepticon Space Carrier Group, Lead Carriers Primax and Triaxia —
The Primax: Commander Dreadwing and First Officer Sharpfire
The Triaxia: Commander Skyquake and First Officer Starwing

The Metroplex, a gargantuan Cybertronian cityship, drifted peacefully in the quiet vastness of space. Its speed was miniscule as it traversed, unhurried, along the edges of the known frontier. Aboard this craft was possibly the largest population of neutral Cybertronians known, as well as three of the remaining council members of the fallen Cybertronian government.

Trailing them at a discrete distance, was a fleet of Decepticon warships that matched the course of the Metroplex, neither advancing nor retreating, simply shadowing the ancient vessel. Aboard one of the carriers, the Triaxia, was a large armored seeker commander who sat in his chair and glared at the Metroplex's image displayed on the bridge's viewscreen with angry ruby optics.

"They see us, there's no reason why they can't see us. So tell me First, why aren't they doing anything? This is boring!" Skyquake slammed his massive fist into the arm of his chair, the loud squeal and crunch of tortured metal made several bridge officers jump and regard their commander warily.

Except for the first officer, Starwing, who turned slowly in her seat to chide the commander with tired patience, "Sir, breaking another command chair will not make the Metroplex do anything other than what it has been doing for the past quartex…."

"Quartex my aft and I did not break my…," Skyquake argued as he lifted his servo to look at the damaged armrest of his chair and mumbled softly, "slag."

"Exactly," she said and without a glance at her station reached behind her to activate the comlink, "First to Tech. The commander's chair has… apparently glitched again. Would you please send a team up to repair it?"

The technician responded sarcastically over the comms, "Again?! Yeah, right, I'll bet it glitch….," the line was silenced as Starwing closed the comm.

Skyquake arched a brow at her knowing she'd intentionally left the comms open longer than necessary, to make her point. Normally he'd blow off his senior officer's attitude but today was not one of those days. His voice dropped an octave as he ordered, "Walk with me."

The bridge went silent as officers stared at each other in fear, except for the femme who rose gracefully to her pedes and nodded politely, "Yes sir."

Skyquake rose with more steam than intended making the command chair squeal backwards in protest. He stormed to the lift only to wait impatiently for the smaller femme to enter ahead of him. She refused to look him as she walked past, helm held high. The only tension he observed was in the stiffness of her wings, which was not unusual in that she always carried herself stiffly, but he knew her well and could tell she was concerned. When she entered the elevator she turned slowly to face him. The only change in expression was a slight frown when she noted the quirky grin on his face.

When the lift doors slid shut behind him, Skyquake moved into her personal space, intentionally. He was curious to see what she would do in response, stand or retreat. She stood there and met his gaze unflinchingly knowing he was taking great pleasure in tormenting her. Finally she asked, "Sir?"

His brows dropped into a frown of confusion and snapped, "What?"

"What level?" She angled her helm at the controls and then added with a touch of sarcasm, "Unless, it's your intention to stay on this deck and bore me into stasis lock for amusement?"

He snorted as he turned to punch a level and then shifted to lean against the wall, "I can't get you out of my helm."

He smiled at her expression, a blink of optics and a tiny twitch of her brows. It was faint but it was there and he waited to see what her next comeback would be. It didn't take long as she asked in carefully modulated tones, "So, I'm not here for the purposes of punishment due to my earlier insolence but because you want to pursue me? I don't believe you, I rather think it's because you're bored and can't find anything else better to do."

He grinned widely as he leaned forward almost touching his nasal to hers, "Pursue you, interesting choice of words First. Yes, you were being insolent on the bridge and that will be addressed. As to why I said what I said, I simply decided to tell you what's on my processor and now is as good a time as any." He stood straight again and crossed his arms over his chassis with a satisfied expression on his face as if he'd scored a point.

Her optics flicked up to his and asked, "Why?"

"Why tell you? Because I felt like it, what's wrong with that?"

Her servo reached up to rub her forehelm to sooth the growing ache this conversation was causing in her processor, "Would you like me to answer you verbally or in written form for your report?"

"Hmmm, that bad huh," he chuckled as the lift slid to a stop. When the doors opened he stepped out and motioned for her to walk ahead of him.

Her features tightened when she exited the lift and recognized the level they were on, "Why are we here, sir?"

"I gotta blow off steam," he said casually as he pushed her forward. Her wing betrayed her as it gave a slight flick when she turned to regard him warily. Instead of answering her silent question he motioned her forward, "Just go." When she didn't move he strode past her and grabbed her bracer to drag her along behind him.

The First was grateful the corridor was empty, she wasn't sure she could handle the additional humiliation of being dragged, let alone having the crew witness her eminent retribution. Skyquake paused before the largest training room and checked the computer system. Unfortunately for Starwing, the room was empty and available.

As the doors slid open she was pushed inside the cavernous chamber and turned to face her commander bravely, arms at her side. With a smooth voice that did not betray her concern she asked, "I would like to know, for the record sir, what method of punishment you are choosing to use and if you intend for this to be witnessed by the crew?"

He smirked at her and turned to lock the doors, allowing her to view the commands as he entered them. She nodded to herself and muttered, "I see, private it is then."

Now only Dreadwing could access the training room controls, including audio and visual systems. She knew that if he lost control, there would be no crewmember to rescue her. She was on her own.

Dreadwing turned but instead of making any aggressive moves towards her, he simply regarded her frame slowly, starting at her well-heeled pedes and moved his gaze slowly up her tense form. Seeker femmes were as a class generally delicately shaped and Starwing was no exception. From helm to pede she was slender and curved. Her armor was a metallic flecked dark purple marked with faint fuchsia lines that raced along seams and faded into deep dark purple swirls noticeable only in certain lighting. To cover and distract from the feminine artistry was large Decepticon shields emblazoned on each wing and over her spark chamber which is where his optics finally rested.

She crossed her arms and moved them upwards to force his optics to follow and they did as his gaze settled on her now blazing optics. Despite her anger she reminded him calmly, "Sir, you do realize this is against regulations? At this juncture, your options for punishment are to either issue a reprimand, beat me, or release me but do not think for a moment I will allow you anywhere near my spark chamber, are we clear?"

"Who said I was interested in your spark chamber," he said tauntingly, curious to see what her reaction would be.

Her lips thinned to a line to match her narrowed optics as she nodded acceptance, "Physical reprimand it is then."

"No, not at all," he answered with a gentle smile. He strode up to the femme and spun her around to face the interior of the room itself, "You're right. I'm having trouble controlling my emotions and it's obvious you're better at it than I am. So, Officer Starwing, I require your assistance." His smile widened as he draped his arm over her shoulders feeling her body stiffen underneath him.

"My assistance," she repeated in disbelief as she did her best to try to figure out how to extricate herself from this situation.

Skyquake aware of her discomfort, feeling her body shudder slightly under his arm, tried to reassure her, "Like I said, you're right. I realize now, given the current political climate, now is not the time for me to allow emotions to control my behavior or actions. Look, I know I'm driving my crew, heck even my own brother, crazy. It's gotta stop. The only thing I can think of is to train with someone who's good at it. Someone who's used to concealing their feelings, thinking first and not acting emotionally, and that, my dear, is you."

"Oh," she turned to the larger mech and with a graceful dip forced his arm to slide off her shoulders and shook her helm. "Sir, I would never presume to train you. Doing so is against regulations let alone what would happen if the crew found out. They would assume there's something going on between us and that knowledge will threaten discipline, not to mention…."

He leaned over and placed a digit over her mouth to silence her and was pleased by her reaction in the widening of her optics and thought, 'Heh, I knew she liked me.' She could tell what he was thinking by his smirk and thought, 'Leave it to a mech to assume physical responses to touch is always a romantic one.'

He stepped back and looked at her feeling a sense of pleasure and calm. A questioning bump in his spark from Dreadwing had him send an 'I'm busy' feeling to his brother and he closed off his spark, "Starwing, no one can enter the training area or view anything that occurs in here. All they will see is that I've engaged training scenarios and if anyone dare presumes to suggest you and I are… intimate… they will have to deal with me personally…."

"As if that will help," she muttered dryly and then added, "anything you do or say about what goes on in here will simply corroborate their assumptions, sir."

He shrugged, "It was bound to happen in their processors no matter what we did. A femme in your position always garners comments like that regardless. So, don't let it bother you. First things first, First." He chuckled at that for a moment but continued, "We need to get my helm on straight. So either you start training me or I make rumors a reality, your choice."

She vented again softly, which for some odd reason, added to his pleasure. His wings slowly relaxed more and unable to contain himself he added saucily, "Either way is fine by me. Although, I know which one I'd prefer, all you have to do is say yes."

Her face remained placid as she countered, "You act like this is a choice."

"It is," he shrugged. "I'm simply saying what's on my processor, that doesn't mean I'm going to do anything about it… well, unless you want me to…."

Instead of leering at her like she expected him to, he turned away and reached up into the air with both arms to stretch. She watched him puzzled as he leaned left and right as if readying for flight. When a breem passed and he did nothing more than stretch he turned and looked at her and blinked, "What?"

She continued to stare at him, her mouth worked but no words issued forth. Skyquake grinned widely, "Well, speechless, that's a first, First. Good, it means it's not a yes but not a no either. I can work with that."

He turned and motioned to the open training area, "I've chosen a low level training scenario. I don't think we've actually fought together and this might ease the stagnation I feel following Metroplex's lazy aft around. ACTIVATE TRAINING SIMULATION ONE." The last was a shout to the computer system and with a cocky salute he pushed off the platform, transformed and began to fire at materializing holographic Autobot seekers.

Starwing's legs wobbled as she stared at Skyquake in shock. She wasn't sure what she'd expected but she was definitely certain this was not it. She'd imagined all sorts of physical abuse despite the fact that neither commander had ever raised a servo against their crew. It was within regulations for them to do so if they chose and there was always a first time.

Not that she was complaining, she wasn't and she had to admit, as the commander suddenly became a sparkling and rolled and cavorted about in the training room noisily hooting and hollering as he shot at hologram targets, this was not the worst position she'd ever been in.

She knew her reputation was ruined the moment he deactivated the audio/video systems but that was something she could ignore. In fact, being linked with a powerful commander like Skyquake was not the worst that could happen to her, real or not, and to be honest it offered her protection from other mech's advances. Not that it happened often, but it did.

What bothered her was the fact that she wasn't sure she could handle training him or spending that much one-on-one time alone with him. She was worried she'd enjoy it and she wasn't sure she should. Losing her spark now to a mech like Skyquake would be the worst thing she could possibly do and she was afraid, whether she liked it or not, she'd been forced into taking another step closer in doing so.

— The Primax —

Dreadwing rubbed his helm and tried to send a query to his brother again but only felt a feeling of gleeful abandon and since the Triaxia wasn't doing anything unusual he was worried his brother was up to something, which was never a good thing. He looked at his first and ordered, "Sharpfire, comm the Triaxia and find out what my brother is doing."

The teal seeker turned, "Sir?"

Dreadwing just repeated his command tiredly, "Just comm Triaxia, Sharpfire."

The First nodded and within moments reported, "He's running training simulations with Starwing."

Dreadwing pinched his nasal between his fingers, "Understood. Anything new going on with the Metroplex?"

"No sir," the seeker quickly gestured and the data from his station flitted up to the main view screen as he reported, "they appear to be following the same course. There have been no responses to Ratbat's initial comms so either the Council is no longer on board or they are no longer in alignment. Do you wish to comm Metroplex?"

"No. Any more singularities," Dreadwing asked referring to the unusual space displacement capabilities of Vector Prime.

"No sir, everything is quiet," Sharpfire reported.

"What about Longflight? Any news about Cybertron," Dreadwing asked tiredly.

"Nothing, we're still waiting for a response but that's not unusual. Longflight will be using a lower ban comm signal to avoid detection and given our distance from Cybertron….," Sharpfire started to explain.

"I know, I know," Dreadwing said clearly fatigued as he rose to his pedes, "I'm going to my quarters. Anything unusual happens, comm me."

"Yes sir," Sharpfire responded and watched with relief as the commander strode off the bridge. The challenge he faced as a First was in dealing with a commander whose twin was a spitfire. Sometimes the emotional blowback from Skyquake affected Dreadwing greatly and no doubt the lack of action was making Skyquake more unmanageable than usual. He pitied Starwing thinking her commander was the more challenging officer to serve under and at that moment, Starwing would've whole-heartedly agreed.

— Cybertron —

A small spacecraft puffed delicately onto the surface of Moon Base 2 and transformed. Cosmos stilled and allowed the moon dust to hover around and on him as he hid by a large mound of rock. The mini-bot ran his scanners as widely as he believed was safe given his proximity to the installation on the moon.

Moon Bases 1 and 2 had been taken early on in the Autobot/Decepticon war and had been held ever since by the Decepticons. The fact he'd been able to get this close, let alone land, was luck.

Except that was not entirely the case. Cosmos as a very canny and intelligent mech, he learned early on in the war that if he coated himself with certain types of particulate matter he could hide most of his life signs from scans. Not all, but enough that most Decepticons could be relied upon to easily ignore him.

Perhaps it was arrogance of form or simply assuming mini-bots weren't a threat, Decepticons never bothered to include his class in their scans. What it meant was most Decepticons would focus on larger craft or seekers. So whatever signals his small form did emit, even when covered with the particulate matter, was easily overlooked as normal space-noise. It was one of the many tactics he employed in order to have survived for as long as he had and it made him one of Prime's best reconnaissance flyers. Given how diminished their forces were, he feared he was probably the last as well, a thought which made the poor mech's spark sink.

What was more disheartening was the purpose for his mission and why he was in close proximity to the Decepticon nexus of power. His orders were to find out if their homeworld was truly destroyed when Sentinel and Megatron's attempt to relocate their world failed. Ratbat, seeking to command all Decepticon forces, thought to sway their opinion by blaming Optimus for its purported destruction.

Once Cosmos entered the system, he was relieved to easily identify Cybertron's massive form. It was at least intact so from that distance he could verify its rumored destruction was a hoax. Truthfully, he wasn't surprised. Ratbat was well-known as Cybertron's most dishonest Councilor. It was one of the reasons why the leaderless Decepticons weren't immediately flocking to his banner. Despite his skills as a leader and he was, no one could trust the mini-cassette. It was that lack of trust which kept the Decepticons from fully regrouping, a boon the Autobots could definitely benefit from.

So the question was, how close could Cosmos get to Cybertron to take the necessary scans to determine the state of the planet itself. Using all of his talent and skill he'd managed to position himself on Moon Base 2. But if he was unable to get useful data from that location he would have to attempt an even riskier move and land on Moon Base 1. Moon Base 1 was the closer satellite to Cybertron and unfortunately also Ratbat's primary base of operations. Which meant it was likely an even more heavily fortified location.

He read the data from his sensors and as far as he could tell, Moon Base 2 was either on standby or operated by a skeleton crew which provided him with two benefits. The first was that it was unlikely the Decepticons manning this base would be actively monitoring for incursions and two, their energy levels would cover his presence here.

What Cosmos hadn't planned on was for another flyer to have the same idea.

A quick burst of energy puffed the dust that hadn't settled from his landing outward as the mini-bot turned in fear, coming optic to waist with a large white Decepticon shuttle. The only thing that came out of the bot's vocorder was, "Oh slag," not that anyone could hear him curse.

Longflight knelt beside the Autobot and opened a low-level comm, 'Cosmos?!'

Recognizing the ancient mech, Cosmos answered, 'Longflight…. I… I don't suppose I could talk you out of slagging my aft today?'

The white shuttle smiled, 'Today is your lucky day my friend.'

Cosmos blinked and then blinked again in shock, his processor finally glitching, as a result he tipped with a puff onto the downy moon soil. Longflight fanned the dust aside to carefully adjust the mini-bot upright as he ran his own scans to find out if his warp signal had been detected and if he'd scared poor Cosmos to death.

—◊◊—◊◊—◊◊—

Cosmos's systems slowly came on line and he blinked blearily at the white surface of the moon and wondered what had happened. When ruby optics turned in his direction his spark almost extinguished when he'd realized he'd finally been caught. It took him several moments to process the steady stream of comms being sent, '…mos, Cosmos? Come on Cosmos old friend, I'm not here to end your existence. Snap out of it. I need your help.'

Cosmos blinked up at the taller mech and then shook his helm to answer in confusion, 'You… what?!'

:'I need your help, Cosmos. My commanders didn't believe Ratbat so I'm here to find out what's going on. It's against Ratbat's orders to be here which means neither of us is welcome. But if we work together, we can retrieve the data on Cybertron's condition and warp out before Ratbat can move against us.'

:'But… you're a 'con. Why would Ratbat go after you?!'

:'Because he wants command and believes the only way to get it is to lie about Cybertron and to blame it's destruction on the Prime. If the planet isn't destroyed then it's likely no one will follow him. My commanders are trying to decide a course of action. So I've been ordered here for reconnaissance, no engagements, to learn the truth. Unless you wish to engage me….'

:'Not particularly….'

:'I didn't think so. So I ask you, what is of greater concern for our race than knowing the true state of our homeworld?'

:'You must admit, Longflight, Decepticons don't exactly have a trustworthy reputation.'

Longflight sighed and then sat down with his legs crossed to regard the smaller mech, 'That is a sad thing to hear but not surprising. However, don't you remember the same thing was said about the Autobots? Can't one attribute Cybertron's current state to Sentinel Prime's actions?'

Cosmos looked down with a frown on his face, 'A lot has happened I suppose. I remember you were always a mech of your word. Can I trust that's still the case?'

:'Yes. Here is my proposal. Board me and link with my on-board systems to increase our scanning efficiency. My Decepticon ident code will hide your signature and allow me to do as many orbits as we need or when Ratbat moves against me. Once we're done, I'll warp us out to a location of your choosing and we'll part ways peacefully. All I ask is you not choose coordinates that drop me in the middle of the Autobot fleet, alright?'

Cosmos held out his servo for which Longflight placed a digit and shook on it, 'I give you my word as a flyer that I will not give you coordinates that will place you in danger as long as you verify those coordinates won't place me in danger.'

Longflight nodded and transformed, 'I give you my word. We are in agreement then. Which is good, because the sooner we move out the better. I found you because I picked up your energon signal and I doubt they're aware you're here. Unfortunately my warp signature will be picked up so I might have given you away.'

Cosmos nodded and quickly boarded the shuttle. Once on the bridge he sat at Longflight's science station and linked up as Longflight pushed off the moon's surface and moved, with a purpose, into Cybertron's orbit, "Start scans now Cosmos."

"Scanning now," Cosmos confirmed as their combined systems began to spool data.

— Moon Base 1 —

The sensor monitoring drone looked up from his station to survey the command center looking for anyone superior to him to relay his sensor data to. When no bot appeared to be acting in that capacity he looked down at his board and vented despondently as he opened comms, "Commander Ratbat, this is Sensor Monitor 2 reporting a warp anomaly on the surface of Moon Base 2."

"Why are you bothering me about this? You should be contacting Moon Base 2!" snapped the mini-cassette in response. Then the mini-con's tone changed, "Wait! Report your findings to the Fury. They've been bothering me too much, let's give them something to do, have them investigate it! Out!"

The drone shook his helm tiredly, "Yes sir, right away sir. Out." With a small vent he opened comms and linked to the destroyer and seeker command ship Fury, formerly Starscream's vessel and advised, "Fury this is Moon Base 1, a warp anomaly was detected on Moon Base 2, Commander Ratbat requests you investigate."

The drone knew exactly what sort of response to expect and was not surprised, "Excuse me?! Do we look like 'servant drones' to you?!"

The drone rolled his optics, gratefully hidden by his visor as he responded calmly, "Of course not sir. I am only following Commander Ratbat's orders."

"And did his royalness think to comm Moon Base 2 and ask those lazy afts to do their job and check out the signal since it's on their rock?!"

The drone had learned several things while being in the service of the Decepticons. One was to compliment and the other to redirect, he employed both, "Certainly and if Commander Ratbat had faith in his team he would've asked me to do so. However, he wished me to contact you first, which attests to his belief that your superior abilities can accomplish far more than those on Moon Base 2. However, I shall do as you request and contact Moon Base 2. Moon Base 1 ou…."

"Fine, fine. We'll check it out, Fury, out."

The drone looked at his desktop and muttered, "I hate my job."

Another drone nearby whispered, "Me too." A small chorus of agreement was heard in hushed tones as the demoralized drones continued on with their thankless and unappreciated work.

—◊◊—◊◊—◊◊—

"I'm picking up a destroyer," Cosmos intoned calmly as he filtered data, one into his cache and a duplicate into Longflight's.

Comms opened up, 'Identify yourself or we're gonna start shooting!'

Cosmos looked up, "What are you going to do?"

Longflight didn't bother to answer Cosmos and instead allowed his transmission to do so for him, 'This is Energon Seeker Shuttle Longflight. I'm making a temporary orbit before plotting a jump to new prospective energon location. Acknowledge?'

'What idiot gave you permission to plot a jump course here? Cybertron space is off-limits, by order of Ratbat,' the sarcasm of the speaker was obvious.

Longflight chuckled, 'I'm sorry sir, that idiot would be me. I ran into a system with debris, scrambled my long range comms and nav. I wasn't able to obtain accurate jump orders or navigate unknown quadrants. So with comms down I plotted to known space. Would ya mind giving a fellow seeker a break and a quick news burst on how things are going? Has Megatron finally off-lined Prime?'

Cosmos gasped in shock.

'Where the slag have you been Longflight? Haven't you heard anything? Megatron's gone! Prime killed him on Earth, Starscream too.'

'Megatron and Starscream are gone? Who's in command?'

There was a garbled sound on Longflight's comms as transmission was immediately cut off and another comm signal opened, this one private, 'This is Thundercracker, Longflight. Good to see you're still on line old mech!'

'So, unless Megatron manages to survive death, again, it's a free-for all. Ratbat claims being Shockwave's first makes him next in line, the slimy aft. There are a few others of no worth who are making bids too but no one we feel is worth following. We're laying low here and waiting to see what Dreadwing and Skyquake's next move is, since they're the most senior seeker officers around. Unless you wanna throw your helm into the ring?'

:'Wow, that's bad. And no, I am not interested.'

:'Yeah, didn't think so. Anyway, word of advice? Do what you need to do and haul aft outta here. We're the only ship capable of offering you any threat and frankly I'm not interested in taking on any of our kind until this mess sorts itself out, do you read me?'

Cosmos regarded the ceiling, "What does he mean?"

:'Understood. Then, in light of that information, you should know I'm here under orders. Dreadwing wants me to scan Cybertron to verify Ratbat's claims. You'll allow me to take as many passes as possible to gather data?'

:'We can do you one better Longflight. I'll send you a datapacket of our latest research. If there's not enough there, make your passes and then bolt. Tell Dreadwing we're here and awaiting orders when he's ready to take command. Until then, I'll keep Ratbat busy, Fury out.'

Within seconds there was a chime on the science station indicating an immense data packet was received. Cosmos's servos flew over the counter's keys as he opened and then split the data into two files as he scanned the information. Admiration for the research was clear when he mumbled, "The science team aboard the Fury is a very competent one."

Longflight was viewing the data as well as he approached Cybertron's orbit, "I should expect so. Before the war Starscream was a skilled scientist so I expect his crew to be equally competent. Starscream would not put up with anything less than the best. It's a shame he's gone, we could have used his skills to revitalize our world."

Cosmos nodded and chose not to comment against Starscream. Instead he praised the data, "The findings are thorough. It seems the damage sustained from the failed bridge attempt only damaged some of the city superstructures, those can be easily rebuilt. The core appears to be stable and functional but it's still hindered by the infusion of dark energon. However, if this data is correct, the dark energon's harmful properties seem to be dissipating. I didn't think it was possible!"

"Let's not worry about the properties of dark energon until we're safely out of system. Cosmos, I have enough data for my mission, do you require an orbital pass?"

"For visual reference, yes," Cosmos said.

"Alright, one pass then and enter your warp coordinates," Longflight responded as his angled his nose for the orbit around Cybertron.

"Will we be safe doing an orbit?" Cosmos asked as he plugged in the coordinates.

"Yes, the Fury is the only vessel in this system right now capable of matching me for speed and warp ability. They won't give us any trouble."

Cosmos's periwinkle optics looked troubled as the view screen filled with Cybertron's topography, "Why?"

"Ah Cosmos, have you forgotten our ways so easily my old friend?"

Cosmos blinked for a moment but quickly activated the visual feed to commence scans, "No, I haven't. I just didn't think the Decepticons remembered them anymore."

"Sadly, I cannot speak for all of us but some of us do, old friend, some of us do," Longflight said sadly as he rolled to view the wounded planet below.

The orbital journey went by far too quickly for them. Despite the devastation both equally longed for their homeworld. And as soon as the pass was made Longflight informed Cosmos sadly, "Our orbit is complete, initiating warp."

— Moon Base 1 —

Sensor Monitor 2 watched as the blip that was the Fury make its way to Moon Base 2 and smirked as the vessel took it's time doing so. He also watched another smaller blip that read as Decepticon, flit away from Moon Base 2 and set itself up for an orbit around Cybertron. If the Fury did not read that signal as an enemy, neither would he.

He knew, deep in his spark that it was wrong for Ratbat to lie, to mislead their people into believing Cybertron was gone. He also knew as he cleared his board of data relating to the smaller ship's presence, trajectory, and subsequent warp that should his 'accidental' deletion of data be discovered he'd be terminated. At that point, he didn't care. Why should he?

He owed no loyalty to Ratbat, a former member of the very Council that determined which sparks were selected as drones and which ones weren't. These avaricious bots set themselves above all, acting like gods and destroying any and all who complained for the sole purpose of filling their coffers and making their lives easier. His spark, like many others birthed from the Well, were classified as weak and therefore considered 'drone' and forced into a life mindless slavery. Sensor Monitor 2 knew he was neither weak nor a drone. Drones had no resentment, anger, hopes, dreams, feelings, desires but he did. He only lacked the frame to change his fate.

Unfortunately, as long as he bore the frame of a Decepticon drone, no bot would ever see him as anything else. His only hope was escape and to make his way to the Autobots and hope they might not shoot him on sight. Perhaps they might even overlook his frame to help him find out who he really was. Until then, he would do what he could to stay alive and protect others like him from the vagaries of mechs like Ratbat.

— Autobot Command Frigate Varion —

First In Command of All Autobot Forces: Prowl

Blaster was busy playing with Steeljaw, his lion recordabot symbiot, when an incoming message from Cosmos had him jerking into position and simultaneously opening channels, "Prowl, to the bridge!"

"Go ahead Cosmos," Blaster finished.

:' I'm being escorted by a 'Friendly', repeat 'Friendly' Decepticon do not shoot upon arrival, please respond!'

Blaster barked into comms, "You gotta be kidding me man? Not shoot a 'con? Are you crazy?" Steeljaw, no longer the center of attention rolled his optics and then stretched out under the counter unconcerned about the unfolding drama above him.

Prowl's voice echoed over a separate comm on the bridge, "On my way, what's going on?"

Blaster barked back, "Cosmos is inbound, which is good news. Bad news is it's courtesy of a Decepticon shuttle who he says is friendly!"

The Varion was a small vessel so it wasn't overly surprising for the doors to hush open and Prowl to storm into view as he quipped sarcastically, "Friendly Decepticon what a perfect example of an oxymoron."

Blaster turned his chair in a circle to shrug at Prowl and then return to the console, "Cosmos, I have Prowl on line, repeat your message."

:'Prowl this is Cosmos. I am not under duress. Repeat, I am not under duress. I am being aided by a friendly that is warping me to your coordinates. Will you to agree to a temporary truce so he can drop me off?"

Prowl blinked as he sat down hard in his command chair, almost falling into it as he muttered, "That is… an unexpected request under the circumstances."

"You tellin' me," Blaster muttered back.

Prowl ignored Blaster's remark and activated his chair comm, "Should I even bother to ask how you befriended a Decepticon let alone why said Decepticon is ferrying you here?"

:'We were on the same mission, to determine the fate of Cyberton. The mech is called Longflight, he's serving under the command of Dreadwing and Skyquake. He was ordered to obtain data against Ratbat's orders. With our missions aligned and Ratbat working against us we decided to combine equipment and resources to obtain better data.'

Prowl shook his helm and asked tiredly, "And if we do Cosmos, what guarantees will your Decepticon friend, not provide our coordinates to Dreadwing's fleet after he delivers as promised?"

Another chime hit Blaster's boards followed by a stream of colorful Cybertronian language. Finally Blaster barked at the board, specifically at Cosmos, "YOU GAVE HIM OUR FREQUENCY?!"

Prowl's helm fell into his servo and muttered, "Prime warned me there would be days like these." Steeljaw rumbled softly, a feline chuckle, which earned him a gentle kick from Blaster. Unmoved, he yawned again and lowered his helm onto his paws to fall into a light recharge.

Prowl looked up at Blaster and ordered tiredly, "Go ahead." Blaster nodded as he flipped a button the comms board and Prowl addressed the Decepticon, "This is Prowl, go ahead, Longflight."

:'Sir, you have my word as was given to Cosmos and is now offered to you. I will not relay your location to my commander as part of our joint scientific effort to obtain the true status of our homeworld. What is more critical is to relay to our respective leadership the truth. Ratbat lied. He cannot be allowed to misinform our people about something as serious as the fate of our planet. Besides, discussion is moot, I'm here already."

The alert claxon's went off as the bridge was immediately bathed in the vibrant red lighting of battle stations. The Varion's crew scrambled to their stations as Blaster directed the response teams via comms.

"Varion, stand by," Prowl ordered as he rose to his pedes, "Cosmos, status?"

:'Request permission for Longflight and me to come aboard.'

Prowl frowned and rubbed his chevron and muttered sarcastically, "Oh why not. What else could possibly go wrong?! Permission granted. Blaster, close comms."

Blaster turned to regard the First askance, "What's the thinkin' boss?"

Prowl turned, "Deploy your recordabots to the landing bay. They are small enough they could move around the landing bay and scan the seeker for any tracking devices without detection. The extra firepower won't hurt either if the 'Con turns on us."

Blaster's pede pushed Steeljaw's paw gently as he ejected the rest of his cadre of recordabots, "You heard da boss, move!"

Prowl turned on his pede and headed to the lift joined by a tiny unit of mini-cons, two animal-type Cybertronians called Steeljaw and Ramhorn, and two mechs, Eject and Rewind.

—◊◊—◊◊—◊◊—

Cosmos ported the finalized data into his system and muttered dryly, "That went well."

Longflight responded with a light chuckle, "What did you expect? Anyway, I still may get my aft shot."

Cosmos shrugged, "Perhaps, but at least it's a rather large aft so I doubt you'd suffer serious injury except to your pride. Well, something must be done to end this nonsense one way or another, don't you agree?"

"I see you haven't lost your sense of humor but in all seriousness, I don't see how we can end the war. As long as the Prime is still alive distrust will continue, regardless of who bears that title," Longflight argued.

"No more than the Council," Cosmos argued back.

"That is true," Longflight said as he entered small landing bay and opened his hatch for Cosmos to disembark.

Prowl stood there with a small cadre of forces armed and ready as they watched Cosmos approach and the seeker slowly transform. Since the landing bay was too small for him, Longflight was forced to kneel in order to keep his wings from scraping the roof and in doing so almost dislodged a small recordabot who'd hidden himself in an effort to get closer to the Decepticon.

Prowl regarded Cosmos casually, although his servos were clearly ready to do battle should Longflight turn aggressive ordered, "Cosmos, would you care to explain your rather unorthodox companion?"

"In brief, Longflight….," Cosmos's explanation was interrupted by the mech himself.

"Commander, who I am doesn't really matter right now. What's more important is the data we carry. It's important enough that I'm willing to surrender to you if you fear I will betray you. You can place your trust in me. I will not relay your location to command. All I want is to report our findings to my own commanders," Longflight said with his servos flat on the floor palms up in a display of vulnerability and submission.

Prowl regarded Longflight sternly as he chided the ancient seeker, "You know very well we cannot imprison a mech of your size, especially one who can warp, on a ship like this. And your word? Once you leave, it will be difficult to enforce." Prowl turned to Cosmos, "Is Cybertron gone?"

"No sir. However, there is damage, but it's to the city superstructures not to the core itself. What's most interesting is what else we've learned. Any damage done to the planet's core from the dark energon is dissipating as well as the dark energon itself…."

"That's… that's impossible," Prowl interrupted as his optics flicked upwards to look at Longflight, "are you sure your findings have not been corrupted? Manipulated?"

"No, they are not," Longfight answered with honesty. But to forestall any further argument Longflight explained, "That is why this information must be disseminated immediately. It's a known fact that neither Autobot nor Decepticon science has been able to find a way to repair the damage to our core caused by the dark energon, let alone decrease its potency."

"However, someone has. We need to find out how it was done and more importantly, who did it. Are we facing a friend we will be indebted to and what will be the price for that aid? Or do we face an even greater foe than either of our factions combined can fight attempting to lay claim to our world?"

Prowl nodded, "Agreed. We need to learn more." The black and white mech stared at the larger seeker, his blue gaze piercingly direct as he analyzed the mech reading any pertinent data off the larger mech's form. A shift of optics, a twitch of digit, a flick of his wing, anything that might help him determine motive as well as analyze the new information and what it might mean for their people moving forward.

Longflight met the smaller mech's gaze patiently, understanding that there was a greater analysis being performed. Prowl was famous within Decepticon forces for his perceptive battle computer and in a way Longflight felt honored to witness the mech in action. Moreso if he survived to tell Steadyburn about it later.

There were infinitesimal shifts of the mechs stationed in the landing bay indicating unease except for one, a blue door-winged mech carefully positioned in a hallway access overlooking the hangar. Bluestreak was still, sniper rifle steady with its sight placed directly over the Decepticon's spark chamber, digit poised over the trigger ready to take the shot if the order was given.

"Go in peace," Prowl finally answered and then muttered softly, "don't make me regret letting you go."

"You won't," Longflight answered softly and then in a louder voice added, "Cosmos, it has been a pleasure working with you again." With that the seeker nodded to those in the loading bay, transformed into his shuttle mode and slowly retreated out of the hangar.

"Alright, show's over everyone," Prowl barked, "return to your stations. Blaster?!"

From the overhead comms Blaster's voice responded, "Didn't pick up anything on the bot, no tracking, nothing."

"Keep weapons locked on him but don't fire unless he does. Continue on course best possible speed," Prowl ordered then turned to the mechs hovering around Cosmos and cleared his throat pointedly. When that didn't seem to create the right impetus he desired, Prowl walked past Cosmos and ordered, "Cosmos, to the conference room. Everyone else, DISMISSED!"

Bluestreak continued to look down the sight of his rifle in the now emptying hangar and made a small explosive noise as he pretended to fire.

Steeljaw dropped down beside the mech making Bluestreak sit up with a yelp. With a liony grin he asked the Praxian saucily, "Did ya get him?"

"You need bells," Bluestreak sniped back as he stood up and then stooped over to pick up his rifle.

"You need a muzzle," Steeljaw retorted happily as the pair walked together down the hallway.

Bluestreak grinned and countered, "Leash."

"Lockjaw," Steeljaw chuckled back in response.

"Catnip," Bluestreak retorted and was forced to stumble to a halt when Steeljaw ran in front of him to place his orange paws on the mech's legs.

The tiny recordabot's optics were luminous as he begged, "You promise? You won't back out on me will ya?"

Bluestreak blinked in surprise, "Really? That's all it takes to get on your good side is… catnip?"

The lion shrugged, "Shoot me, I love smells. I read the scans on Earth and it said catnip is a very potent herb on Earth and has a very reactive fragrance, especially for felines. My frame is similar to feline design and I'm curious. But, you know what, you don't have to limit yourself to just that one once we get there alright? Anything will do, flowers, spices, minerals."

Bluestreak chuckled, "I don't even know what the stuff is but if it makes ya happy, I'll see what I can do when we get to Earth, okay." Bluestreak knelt beside the tiny mech and scratched behind its ears earning a small growl of pleasure, "Just don't tell anybot I'm doing this for you, I don't want them to know what a soft touch I am."

"Too late, it's fleet-wide knowledge," Steeljaw said as he rose to his pedes and gave the mech another toothy grin.

"Is not," Bluestreak countered.

"Is so," Steeljaw chuckled back as the two sauntered down the corridor.

— Moon Base Alpha —

Wheeljack stood in the damaged engine section of the Ark eyeing the reconstructed warp engine as he absentmindedly tossed a spanner up into the air letting it slowly float back down into his palm and repeated the gesture.

Some might think he was simply admiring the view which at that moment could be the warp engine or the shapely form of Greenlight as she leaned inside the machinery to make a few more modifications. Although, truth be told, it was at neither. Those who knew Wheeljack well would rightly assume that at that moment the mech was actually deep in thought running through a myriad of projects his processor constantly dreamed up.

With grunts, obviously silent ones given the vacuum of space, Greenlight finally wiggled herself out of the narrow gap and pulled a cloth out of subspace to wipe her servos clean. She looked over at Wheeljack and shrugged as she spoke into comms, 'Well, as far as I can tell it's fully integrated into the Ark's systems.'

Wheeljack nodded, 'One down. All we have to do now is complete work on the hull.'

Inside the command center Elita leaned over the command station's boards as she listened into the engineer's conversation, "What's it going to take to make the hull space-worthy and warp ready?"

Wheeljack's tinny voice answered, 'Not sure about warp but with the materials we've located from its impact, we can have it flight capable. I was thinking, I might have enough parts to try to replicate the shield generator as an alternate solution to using the warp drive.'

Ultra Magnus sat down beside Elita with a mug of energon in his servo as he handed another to her, "Will the repairs be sufficient for re-entry?"

Elita looked over and nodded as Wheeljack's disembodied voice answered, 'No. The materials we have here are just enough for patchwork, it won't take re-entry heat and it's definitely not combat ready. We'd have to gear up for some serious fabrication to do that and we don't have enough fuel to smelt the metal.'

Elita groaned as she stepped away and walked over to another computer and ran the numbers, "Slag, he's right."

'Told ya,' Wheeljack responded.

She looked up at Ultra Magnus and shrugged, "Ideas?"

The large blue officer turned and looked thoughtfully back, "Not at the moment but things change. Wheeljack, I want you to start work on the shield generator, if you can reverse engineer that device that may be a game changer for us."

'And the Ark?'

Ultra Magnus looked over at Elita who simply motioned for him to continue, "There are four of you. Split up and pull double-duty. Try to get the Ark mobile and the generator working as soon as possible."

'How soon?'

Elita smirked, "How 'bout before the Decepticon fleet arrives?"

'Which is?'

"Sooner if we keep talking," Elita chuckled. "Command out."

She rose from her chair and stretched as she waved airly at the Earth's blue form in the base view port, "What do you think is going on down there?"

Ultra Magnus shrugged, "No idea until Prime contacts us or the human news feeds give us a clue. I'm going to head down to the training bay and see how my Wreckers and the mini's are getting along."

"Oh, that should be fun," Elita grinned.

"Yeah, except that Kup, Chromia and Arcee are there so I'm sure casualties will be minimal. Oh, speaking of Arcee," Ultra Magnus paused at the entry.

"Hmmm," Elita asked.

"Will you have a talk with her? It seems two of my mechs have optics on her," Ultra Magnus began.

"You should really be warning your mechs," Elita interrupted, "Arcee's not one to mess with."

"That's not what I meant," Ultra Magnus rubbed his nasal as he thought about the subject of his concern. "I respect Arcee. However, I don't want… Elita, this is a very difficult conversation for me to have with you, you know that."

The mech walked back into the bay and allowed the door to slide shut behind him before he continued, "Springer is an experienced mech and knows his way around femmes, I'm not worried about him. Hot Rod, however, is a young mech and as much as he would rather not have me say this, is inexperienced. You know Arcee better than I. All I'm asking is that you caution her to not toy with his affections. I cannot force a bot to restrict the pull of his spark but I will stop it if it's only a game. Am I clear?"

Elita rubbed her chin, "Arcee's not that type of femme but I will speak with her."

"And what I said about Hot Rod, I would prefer that information to remain between us. He doesn't need any more pressure," Ultra Magnus asked with his servo hovering over the portal mechanism.

"Why are you so protective of him," Elita asked as she sipped from her mug.

"Alpha Trion asked me to," Ultra Magnus answered with a shrug, "nothing more than that."

"Did he you give a reason," Elita asked curiosity piqued, "hint? Anything?"

Ultra Magnus rolled his optics, "You're kidding me right? A3? He never gives any mech a reason for the requests he makes. Besides, you always had better luck with him than I did."

Elita smiled wistfully, "Not really. His answers usually came with even more questions he wouldn't answer. Alright, I'll make sure my ladies keep an 'optic' out for Roddy and nothing more will be said."

"Just make sure they're not obvious, the kid's emotions have been hair-trigger sensitive lately," the commander smiled and prepared to leave.

"Sounds like a younger version of you Maggy," Elita teased and then burst out laughing when the large mech gently banged his helm against the door. "Don't worry, just like I promised, no one will ever know of my special name for you, ever."

Muffled by the door she heard him mutter, "I'll hold you to it." He swiped the portal command and waited for it to open before he stood up straight and calmly stepped out of the command center.

Elita waited for the door to shut and then snorted quietly to herself as she remembered a very young Ultra Magnus when he'd attempted to court her before he realized she'd already chosen Optimus. When she thought of the Prime her expression saddened as she turned back to the monitors to listen to various news feeds coming from the planet below.

— The Triaxia —

In the seeker training bay Skyquake tore apart the last Autobot simulation and landed gracefully on the platform. He was puffed up with pride as he turned to his first, massive fists placed on his hips that exuded confidence and his all too familiar 'I'm too sexy for my wings' pose.

Starwing had long since composed herself and regarded the massive flyer impassively, "Are we feeling better now?"

His smile increased, "Much…." He let the word drift off as his expression turned from one of prowess to sultry as he stepped closer to her.

She raised her servo and placed it on his chassis to halt him, "I believe your purpose in bringing me here was to ask me to teach you to control yourself..."

"Hmmmm, I think I have," he said as he reached for her.

What he did not expect was to find himself flying through the air and slamming into the training room wall. He hit hard, bounced off and landed in a heap. He surprised her by smiling up at her, "You are DEFINITELY the one for me."

Her only reaction was to retort, "Oh dear, I must've tossed you harder than I should have. Come on, let's get you to the med bay, your processor appears to be addled…."

"Oh no, jostled but not damaged," he replied contradictorily as he lumbered to his pedes and wobbled slightly, grin still plastered firmly on his face. "That, was amazing! You've gotta show me how you did that."

Starwing angled her helm and narrowed her optics, "I will… but several conditions must be met first."

He tipped his helm first left and then right, to make the connections snap back into place, "Fire away."

"If you wish me to train you, you must first address me as sensei. It's an earth-word for teacher. Second, you will make no untoward advances; this is a martial endeavor not a romantic exercise. Third, any injuries resulted from training will not be considered actionable offenses taken against a superior officer. If you find these terms acceptable, I will train you."

"Yeah, sure, let's start," he said as he stepped closer.

"Sit," she ordered.

"You can't train a bot by sitting," he smirked.

She simply relaxed her posture into a basic ready stance, "Skyquake, you just accepted my terms and as such, disobedience will be dealt with and dealt with swiftly, do you understand my meaning?"

"Oh do I," he cooed and then watched with bored curiosity as she extended a staff that had been hidden under her laser assembly and commented, "Nice…." Unfortunately that was all he could say as the staff whistled through the air and collided with his helm sending him to the floor.

"The proper response is, yes sensei, and then you obey the command. Now, Skyquake, sit," she repeated as the staff swished over her helm and came to a rest, tip pointed onto the floor as it rested casually in her servos.

He chuckled and stayed seated, finding this scenario much more amusing an exercise than he expected. Starwing nodded and then stepped over to the controls. With fast digits she easily hacked and disabled the codes he'd put into place which silenced audio and visual feeds into the training room.

With a nod she strode back to the seated commander, "Commander Skyquake, from now on all training sessions will be available for the crew to view. A commander who is willing to challenge himself should also be willing to show his crew the lengths he's willing to go through to improve both his skills as a fighter and his skills as a leader. This will also encourage his crew to do the same."

With a flick of her wrist the staff reduced in size and was quickly restored to its subspace compartment under her laser assembly, "The martial arts exercises I will be showing and training you in are a conglomerate of forms I've studied from Cybertron, Earth, and other worlds. Some of what I will show you, you already know. The purpose is to practice and drill until these forms become a part of your spark and processor in the hopes it will help you achieve the calm you desire. We will first work with focus and concentration by doing slow forms. We will not be sparring until I deem you are ready to do so. When I issue a command, you will follow it to the best of your ability. The only acceptable response right now is yes sensei. Do you understand?"

Skyquake frowned when he realized training had taken a turn other than the direction he desired. He was not pleased that the first had enabled the crew to view his training as well. He rose to his pedes to argue, "I will not be humiliated…."

He watched, as if in slow motion, as Starwing stepped over and quickly flipped him back and slammed him hard onto the deck. She leaned over him, "As I recall, you said you had trouble controlling your emotions and you wanted to know how I did it. This is how I did it. You can leave and we can consider this exercise concluded or you can remain here and learn. It's your decision, commander."

She took several steps backwards and waited calmly for an answer. He rose to his pedes in step with the fury he felt building inside of him as he advanced on her. He watched for a response as he raised his fist and prepared to send a blow to her chin.

In the back of his processor a part of him admired the femme, not a flinch or sign emotion was betrayed as she stood there calmly, almost passively waiting for the blow. Curious he followed through and then stared in shock as his fist sailed past her helm and was followed by the rest of him as he flew over her shoulder to land flat on his back on the training room floor.

His pride would've been sorely tested had he known the feed now available, was being viewed not only by his crew but by the rest of the fleet. Rumors, especially when there was nothing much to do, had flown quickly that he'd left the bridge with her. Like a match to fuel, the news that the Commander was taking his First into a training room, alone, for either discipline or 'other' activities quickly spread.

Starwing had been correct in wisely pointing out that rumors would immediately suggest a romantic liaison between them. Opening the feed instantly snuffed that rumor and replaced it with an even more exciting one. What mech or femme, Cybertroninan or other race could resist watching a superior combatant getting his comeuppance from a smaller fighter. In a word, the Metroplex could've exploded and no one would've noticed, it was just that good.

— The Praxia —

The comms in Dreadwing's suite echoed with the voice of his first, "Commander, I hate to disturb you, sir, but there's a leaked feed coming from the Triaxia that you ought to see."

"Fine, fine," the combat seeker commander grumbled as he rolled out of his berth and flicked on the indicated feed and then laughed. As he continued to watch, his laughter grew apace as his twin sailed over the smaller seeker's form and landed ignobly onto the deck. With a flick of his wrist he threw the image up onto the wall screen at the foot of his berth and rolled back with his massive arms behind his helm to enjoy the rest of the show.

His only comment was an occasional groan in sympathy, as some of the pain leaked through their twinspark. He muttered in awe in unconscious unison with his twin, "What a femme!"

— The Triaxia —

Several tosses later Skyquake looked up at her from the floor, his optics having trouble adjusting from the repeated throws heard her ask, "Are you ready to begin your training now commander?"

He carefully rolled over onto his abdomen and looked up, "That wasn't it?"

"Nope," she answered as she lowered herself to one knee, "that was merely to get your attention. Do I have it now?"

"You could'a just asked," he grumbled as he slowly sat up and rubbed his aching helm.

She sighed, "I believe I did. Now, are you ready to begin training?"

"Yeah, fine, alright," he muttered as he tried to stand and then yelped as the staff which seemed to have appeared out of thin air wacked him soundly on the helm.

"The correct response is, yes sensei. Now remain seated," she ordered leaving the staff resting on his helm and tapped it again on the dented surface.

He glowered up at her and finally growled, "Yes sensei."

— Washington D.C., NEST Base – Secured Quarters —

Hui's alarm clock beeped promptly at 6 a.m. and still fighting sleep she reached over to turn it off. With a grunt she pushed herself up to sit and stared at her room in confusion until she remembered the night before.

After the meeting with Director Mearing and Colonel Lennox, Hui and Romero had been separated. She remembered watching Romero being escorted away to the area reserved for the military as she was taken through numerous levels and sections to an area the guards jokingly referred to as 'the Coop'.

She remembered halting when that moniker slipped out. 'The Coop' sounded like imprisonment and she felt betrayed. Captain Thompson, who was in charge of her escort detail, a very tall blond Air Force officer, was forced to lean over to see her face to figure out why she stopped.

When he frowned at her, her fear increased until she realized his expression wasn't mean-spirited at all, simply that of a person trying to figure out how to explain something that was common knowledge to someone foreign. It was obvious he was not having an easy go of it when he said, "Uhm, apologies ma'am, I assume you either didn't get the reference or was offended by it?"

Hui answered quietly, "I do not understand. Why am I being jailed?"

His distress was so very easy to read it surprised her. She expected military officers to be more… stern. He stood up and remarked, "Wait, you're a Chinese national aren't you?"

Hui nodded which made the officer grunt softly in annoyance. With an abrupt gesture he motioned the guards to back off. When they did he leaned over Hui, who was very petite in contrast to his 6'2" frame, to explain, "I'm sorry ma'am. The name 'Coop' refers to a chicken coop or hen house where hens are kept to sit and lay eggs. Which probably doesn't make any sense either unless you understand that we refer to scientists, engineers, hackers, anyone brainy, as an eggheads…."

"Ah, so it's a pejorative then," Hui responded calmly.

Another look of discomfort crossed the handsome officer's features as he ran his fingers through his light blond hair, "Well, yeah, if we meant it that way but we don't. We're teammates and sometimes we make fun of each other, sometimes prank one another, to ease the stress."

The captain stood straight as a look of sadness crossed his open face, "All of us here, we know what's at stake. We are the last line of defense for our world and that's a terrifying reality because our own people don't get it. So we're squashed between governments who are fighting us every step of the way while we have to face an enemy who's more powerful than we are with bullets and bailing wire. So yeah, we sometimes get a little crazy here."

"One way is to tease each other. For example, Maggie the computer engineer you'll be working with, she calls me her pet monkey. That's because I've got long arms, I'm huge, monkey's are small, and because the military is generally thought of as being stupid."

"That's not the case," Hui argued.

"Exactly, which is why it's funny, in an ironic sort of way. The science division, where you're going to sleep and work in, is called the Coop for the same reason," he explained.

"So what do they call your area," Hui asked quietly.

The young officer's face changed to open humor, "Anything that refers to muscles, stink, or explosives. Like the footlocker, meat locker, the pit, mom's worst nightmare, the hole, basically anything silly that comes to mind."

As he explained he motioned for her guard to fall in, "We're escorting you to your quarters, not a prison cell. Since you've already eaten you should get some rest, we're scheduled pick you up at 7 to take you to the chow hall for breakfast and then to the Engineering Lab at 8 to meet your handler, Maggie Madsen."

Now that her memory returned, she knew where she was. She yawned and pulled her knees up to her chest to wrap her arms around them. Her room was bare of personal effects and clothing so she would be forced to wear the same clothing she'd been brought in with yesterday. Not exactly the way she'd like to meet her 'handler' but, given the situation, at least she wasn't facing the barrel of a giant robot weapon or life in prison. She wondered if Romero was being well cared for.

She rose, showered and used a damp washcloth to brush her clothes as clean as possible and dressed. She was happy they at least provided her with a kit that included soap, toothbrush and toothpaste, underarm deodorant, and a comb to at least take care of basic needs. She regarded her reflection in the mirror and pushed away a damp lock of midnight black hair, worry clearly written on her face.

"Am I doing the right thing," she asked her reflection. A knock on the door was her only answer as she turned and walked over, "Enter."

Captain Thompson pushed open the door, "Are you ready ma'am?"

She nodded and followed him out and joined two armed soldiers. She did her best to hide her fear while a part of her looked hopefully to see if one of the soldiers was Romero. Sadly and as expected, she knew none of her companions except for Captain Thompson.

The walk to the mess was a quiet one and was further emphasized when the officer escorting her insured that no one spoke to her as she collected her meal, sat at a table and ate. She was aware of the glances, both curious and suspicious. When she was done, she was shown where to place her tray and then followed the officer back into the complex.

There were many corridors and each boasted praise-worthy security. When they finally reached another set of security doors he swiped his card at the card-reader. The doors clicked open and the officer motioned her through. She noted with surprise that her escort, instead of following her in turned and left. She looked up at Thompson quizzically who only blinked at her as he motioned her to follow him.

A quick glance around the room made it quite clear, why. There were no other ways in or out so there was no point in added security. He motioned for her to stay where she was as he walked up to tall casually dressed blond woman, who was deep in a discussion with another casually dressed man. The officer leaned over and whispered something into her ear.

Unfortunately the noise in this section was rather loud with conversation and the clacking of keystrokes for Hui to interpret what might have been said. It didn't matter as the woman's glance quickly turned to her with a look that was both assessing and tentatively welcoming as she glanced at the officer and nodded again.

Hui watched as her escort strode past her as the blond woman walked up hand outstretched. She introduced herself in a heavy Australian accent, "G'day, m'name is Maggie Madsen and I'm one of the lead analysts here and your current chaperone. You'll be workin' with me to find out what ya know and whether or not you'll fit in with us. You'll be given a station to work at. Oh, and you could try to hack your way out, I don't recommend it, we're pretty good at dealing with hackers. Not to mention, if you want to work with us, be on the up-and-up, you keep your nose clean, do ya follow me?"

Hui looked up at the taller woman and thought abstractedly that it was true, they really did do things bigger in Australia if the size of the woman and her personality was any indication. Instead of voicing her thoughts she simply nodded.

Maggie arched a brow at her, "Are ya a coffee or tea drinker?"

Hui blinked surprised, but answered, "Tea actually."

"Then we're gonna be mates, come on," Maggie grinned and draped an arm over the small woman and pulled her along.

—◊◊—◊◊—◊◊—

Romero, likewise, had been escorted down a series of corridors. However unlike Hui, he was not guarded. The military housing area was generic and held bays of 25 beds, his amongst many. It didn't take long for him to find his rack and fall asleep.

The next day he was showered, dressed in fatigues and following a stream of soldiers heading hopefully towards chow.

One of the men bumped into him, intentionally, and quickly introduced himself, "I'm Smith, yeah, I know, but Smith really is my name. Anyways I'm gonna be your buddy through training. Stick by me and I'll show you the ropes until they assign you to a company."

He rambled on, "This is the way to the mess. You'll be given limited access to the facility and that will increase based on your service and security."

"What about the science teams," Romero asked.

The ranger paused as he held open the doors to the mess hall, "You talking about that sweet-looking lady you came in with yesterday?"

Romero arched a brow at him, "Yes… she's a scientist, a PhD."

The ranger shrugged as he led Romero to the chow line, "So what? I like smart and beautiful. What can you tell me about her? She seein' anybody?"

Romero sighed, somethings never change in the military and one was interest in the opposite sex, so he answered sternly, "Not much."

The ranger, already loading up his tray grinned, "Ah, got it, hands-off. And to answer your question, she's with the science geeks. They come in from time to time, but usually they sit over there and don't like to mix with us 'Neanderthals'." The ranger rolled his eyes, "Until they're getting shot at of course and then they're all 'save me, save me'!" The ranger had raised the tone of his voice to mimic a woman.

Romero chuckled, "SSDD."

"Yep," the ranger said as he motioned with his tray to a table filled with other Army rangers already shoveling food down. Romero placed his tray next to his new companion who held out his hand to shake, "The name's Jake."

Romero clasped the hand and returned the rather firm handshake, "Romero."

"Welcome to Area 52," Jake said with a grin and proceeded to eat as several men seated nearby chuckled at the joke.

As Romero took a bite and hummed with pleasure at the quality of the food and relaxed for the first time, in a long time. He felt at home.

— Med Bay —

Duststorm was helped off the medical berth her servo in FirstAid's as he quickly restored visor and battle mask into their proper place. The Prime, lying on the next table, groaned as his systems restarted.

Ratchet glared up at the two, "You can explain your… thing… to Prime now."

Optimus sat up and looked at Duststorm quizzically taking in the new armor, color, and blue optics asked, "Duststorm?"

"And FirstAid's bondmate," Ratchet grumbled although it was more the tone of frustration than actual animosity.

Optimus turned and regarded his CMO easily reading the medic's annoyance and said reassuringly, "I'll take over from here, Ratchet. Oh, am I cleared for combat duty?" Optimus allowed his legs to swing over the edge of the berth and stood up as he ran a quick diagnostic on his HUD.

"Yes," Ratchet grumbled, "except for stepping in front of rounds, blasters, swords, explosives, seekers, psychotic Primes, demented sociopathic leaders…."

Optimus interrupted Ratchet's list with a smile, "I will do my best not to Ratchet. May I use your office?" Without waiting for confirmation motioned for Duststorm and FirstAid to follow him into the CMO's office. Ratchet watched the small procession and once the door shut continued to grumble to himself as he put away his tools.

—◊◊—◊◊—◊◊—

Instead of motioning them to sit Optimus turned, "So, would either of you like to tell me what's going on?"

FirstAid turned, "Colonel Lennox said Duststorm's previous armor and optics were distressing his men. With his permission she selected an F22 mode and I upgraded her with blue optics. I have also asked her to bond with me and she has accepted. Per Cybertronian custom, we will observe a suitable courtship phase before taking the commitment step of bonding. I believe Ratchet's distress is the speed with which this is happening."

Optimus smiled, "He would and it's understandable. He's used to working with frontliners who don't always think things through and can be a bit hasty. I'm glad you both are following Cybertronian custom and will take your time. I agree, bonding is a serious matter and should always be given proper thoughtful consideration. Will you require separate quarters during the courtship phase?"

Duststorm raised her servo, "Sir, we understand that quarters are limited and don't wish to burden you further. We can adhere to custom and share quarters without hardship."

Optimus nodded as FirstAid added, "Sir, Colonel Lennox has also asked if Duststorm can be added to the rotation. I am concerned, sir. She's not a combat flyer…."

"FirstAid, please," Duststorm interrupted, "Colonel Lennox said it would be just like the missions in Chicago and I enjoyed doing that." She turned to Optimus, "I do not mind doing scanning or surveying missions as long as you do not require me to enter into combat."

"Duststorm," FirstAid cautioned worriedly.

Optimus nodded, "I understand your concern FirstAid but you cannot expect a seeker to stay in-doors. Non-combat missions, scanning and surveillance would be a great help to us since we lack flyers. I would even go so far as to ask if you wouldn't mind including searching for energon or energy sources. If you do run into Decepticons, like before just alert us to their presence and leave."

"Optimus, you mentioned a desire for peace," Duststorm said carefully. "Would it be too much to ask that you broadcast a message like that for those here on Earth and perhaps offer them a similar chance as you've done for me?"

"I will do what I can," Optimus agreed tiredly. Then he smiled at the two, "I must say it's very encouraging to see that it is possible for our two sides to find a way to reach an accord. Let's hope others will view this relationship with equal hope for our future. Dismissed."

—◊◊—◊◊—◊◊—

FirstAid and Duststorm exited the CMO's office who merely met them with silence. Duststorm looked at her companion and said, "I'll go check in with Colonel Lennox and let you get to work on Ellie."

She walked past Ratchet who regarded her quizzically and then turned to FirstAid, "Really?"

FirstAid nodded, "Just like Chicago, no combat. Optimus is right, I can't expect her to stay inside, she's a seeker after all and you know what that does to their processors over time."

Ratchet nodded, "Yes, I do. Actually, I've been meaning to ask. How'd you manage to keep her lid on straight while you were being held?"

FirstAid paused as he scanned the reference and then answered, "I talked to her. A lot. It drove her crazy, in a good way I think and it helped keep me sane too."

Ratchet's brow's rose and commented with a note of admiration in his voice, "You always surprise me. I would've never have imagined you being a smooth talker. Remind me to take a few notes because obviously your bedside manner is far better than mine."

Ratchet chuckled to let FirstAid know things were back to normal between them as he pulled over a computer, "Alright, enough dawdling. Let's get to work on our next patient. Why don't we see what you've got on Ellie before we drag her out of Bumblebee."

FirstAid's helm canted questioningly as Ratchet angled his helm and nodded towards the cabinet, "Scan for yourself."

He did and then muttered, "Interesting." He plugged in his wrist lead to the computer and started to export all the data he'd accumulated on Ellie's condition as well as merge the data accumulated from yesterday. As he watched the data spool he looked up at Ratchet, "I'm glad she's got someone else to talk to. I'm worried about her mental health and Bumblebee is a good mech, I think the extra interaction will help her adjust to her new life here."

Ratchet didn't answer right away as he frowned and moved the data from the computer to his datapad to review the information, "What's going to happen when he leaves to work at the embassy? Can't expect him to stay here and babysit."

FirstAid puffed out air, "He'll be back from time to time, so she'll be fine. Besides, myself and Duststorm, you could take the time to get to know her. That should help keep her from missing him as much."

When Ratchet frowned at him, he quickly added, "Ratchet, I know you like to let people think you're a curmudgeon and you do so to keep bots at a distance, but Ellie's different, she needs us. And I know you can be charming when you put your processor to it and I think you should, with her."

"That's not it," Ratchet grumbled.

"Then what is it then?"

"I hate watching young ones suffer and die," Ratchet admitted softly.

FirstAid vented as his helm lowered slightly, "I know, I agree. It hurts the spark unimaginably but we can't let pain distance us from a youngling who needs us right now." The two grew silent as they each viewed the medical data.

—◊◊—◊◊—◊◊—

Optimus watched the two medics work and then glanced beyond to make sure the door to the med bay was secure before he moved over to the counter where the Teletrran system was hidden. He picked it up and carried it into Ratchet's office and set it down on the desktop.

It didn't take long for him to connect to the Moon Base Alpha frequency and his spark lightened considerably when a familiar femme voice answered, "Moon Base Alpha, go ahead Omega One."

"Elita," he said breathily, allowing the word to rumble and stretch warmly over each syllable before he continued, "how are things going up there?"

Optimus heard noise and assumed Elita was settling down and getting comfortable, "Busy, but a good kind of busy. Wheeljack's finished making modifications to the warp engine we picked up and they've installed in the Ark…."

"The Ark? I thought the plan was to install it on the Updraft, your ship," Optimus interrupted worried.

"Well, that was the plan but we thought the larger vessel would benefit more from it. Given Updraft's age, we weren't certain it could handle warp stress and decided to keep her as a cloaked vessel. Thing is, we're not entirely sure the Ark can handle the warp stresses either. It was hit pretty hard to begin with when Sentinel was trying to leave Cybertron. Not to mention the damage it sustained when it crash landed here. There's also salvage damage when the Con's were here and stripped it for their base. So, Wheeljack says he'll do what he can to make it flyable. We're patching the hull with what we have. Oh, another thing, the Ark won't take reentry unless we start fabrication and we're low on fuel."

Optimus rubbed his forehelm, "Nothing new there. However, we've liberated an energon seeker and she's willing to work with us here on Earth. She'll be searching for fuel sources…."

"A seeker… 'con?! Did you say 'she'?! A femme? I thought they were all dead," Elita's voice was understandably shocked.

"As did I. There is much to tell. Where to start," Optimus's voice rumbled happily as he leaned back into Ratchet's chair to talk. It had been so long since he'd been able to speak with Elita and although he'd rather be talking about things other than the war, there was much she needed to know. He rubbed his chin, "As you know, the Decepticons found Earth first so some of the humans here working in secret to find out a way to fight against them… us. They managed to capture a medic, FirstAid, and Duststorm, a seeker, they were being used for testing. We didn't know that until the 'Cons attacked Chicago and they escaped during the attack. What's more interesting is they've… FirstAid and Duststorm, well, how do I put this. They've managed to work out their differences and have actually started the courtship process for bonding."

"Are you serious?!"

"I know, it's hard to believe. But the fact that they're even considering such an option gives me hope," Optimus smiled.

"Me too," Elita replied wistfully as she traced glyphs on the console. "Optimus? Do you think there's a chance they'll let us come down?"

"Working on it," Optimus answered cautiously as he leaned forward on the desk with his elbows.

"Work harder," she teased.

"Slave driver," he teased back, a warm smile on his face.

"I'm just impatient, we all are, to see you all," she said.

"I know, trust me I'm doing what I can," Optimus said as he lowered his helm into his servos. "Elita, I want nothing more than to stay and talk with you but I need to contact Prowl as well as follow up with the human situation. There are several hearings being held today by the nation that's currently hosting us and it's not going well. They are understandably terrified of us and want us to leave, we hope our new ambassadorial team can at least slow them down enough to think things through. Suggesting there are more of us who want to come might not tip the scales in our favor."

"Then there's the matter of the Decepticons. We cannot, for a moment, believe the Decepticon situation is over. I fear it will only get worse as factions battle for surpremacy and we may be part of that. So please, be wary up there, don't let your guard down. If it appears you're going to be attacked, don't try to hold the base, I want all of you to evacuate down to Earth."

"Understood." She leaned closer to the comm and spoke softly words from an ancient courtship poem with her servo resting on her spark, "A spark calls for one missed."

"And is answered, never parted for long," Optimus answered using words from the same poem. Then he spoke from his heart, "Elita, please take care so we may be together soon."

There was a sigh over the comms then she finally answered with a soft chuckle, "I thought you hated that poem."

"I…. It is… not a favorite," he answered diplomatically which provoked a deep toned laugh from his femme.

"Which proves how much you love me. Alright, I shall be careful and hope we can be together soon. Stay safe," she said sadly and disconnected the line.

Optimus lowered his helm to collect his thoughts before moving on to the next task on his mental check list and then opened comms, 'Duststorm, this is Optimus. I'm shifting mission priority.'

He smiled noting the wary response, 'To…?'

'Fuel,' he answered.

'Ah, now that I can do easily sir. I'll inform Colonel Lennox so he can provide me with open territories and no-fly zones,' Duststorm replied.

'Thank you, be careful and stay safe, Prime out,' Optimus tapped a digit on his helm and opened another comm, 'Optimus to Ops, Colonel Lennox?'

'Lennox go ahead OP.'

'You'll be receiving a comm shortly from Duststorm. I'm reassigning her to search for energon or any energy sources….,' Optimus began.

'Yep, she's comming now. I'll shift mission objectives accordingly and keep this on the down-low. We don't need to spend hours in meetings trying to explain to Galloway why you guys need more fuel…,' the dry and annoyed tone from the officer was understandable.

'Too true, thank you for your assistance and oversight Colonel, Prime out,' Optimus clicked off his helm comms and opened Teletrran to comm Prowl, 'Varion, please respond.'

Blaster's overly excited voice answered, 'Just the mech we need to talk to. Prime, we picked up Cosmos and he's got data about Cybertron. Gimme a sec and I'll patch you through to the conference room….'

Optimus shook his helm at the lack of military discipline the ops officer displayed. It wasn't unusual given Jazz's tendencies, Blaster's former mentor and senior officer, which reminded Optimus of how much he missed Jazz. His thoughts were jarred back to the present when Prowl's stern voice barked, 'This is Prowl?'

Optimus smiled, 'Prowl, this is Optimus, Cosmos is back?'

Cosmos's soft voice answered, 'Yes, sir, that I am! And I have news and data!'

'Good news I hope?'

'Sending data now,' Prowl responded, 'I will have Cosmos give you his report….'

As Cosmos explained his mission, including the run in with Longflight, Prime was given a snapshot of the Decepticon political situation as the data file Prowl sent pinged it's receipt on the Teletraan system. As he listened he parsed off the message and sent it to Moon Base Alpha for their teams to review and sent another to Ratchet and FirstAid. It was going to be a busy day, but an uplifting one now that he knew for sure, Cybertron was not destroyed.

---

A/N: Long chapter, I know. I hope it was entertaining. Apologies for errors. Thanks for reading!