"I do not suppose you would like to join me in recharging," Ramjet said. He saw Red Alert shift her head and optics to look at him. Her lip plates formed a particular smile. Ramjet understood: he had meant to to communicate with her honestly, by stating an obvious lie, but in failing to anticipate her wants accurately, he had actually spoken truth. They were going to pretend he had meant to speak honestly all along, but she knew of his slip. Being spark-bonded was not like networking processors or like one's consciousness diving another system. The language was always truthful, but sometimes lacking in specificity to allow for association with a subject or target. "Because, of course we are going to do a security sweep, first."
"Good idea," Red Alert said coyly, "I knew there was a reason I chose you."
Ramjet folded his claws over the small digits of Red Alert's right hand. He stood. Red put weight into his left hand as she pulled herself up from her seat. "It wasn't I who inexplicably chose you. You did not have to do nothing but give approval."
"Doesn't matter."
It didn't, really. They were strangely well-suited to each other, despite being from different factions. They were only getting better at working together. Ramjet knew there were times when Red's high-strung nature was to be quelled with meditative breaths and quiet conversation, when she needed someone to show her how good being reckless could feel, and when her edginess was only going to be helped by additional security procedures.
"Ground floor up?" Ramjet asked.
"I would suggest starting here, going to operations, and then reassessing there."
Ramjet agreed. The party had been winding down, in any case. The assembly hall where the party had been hosted was largely empty, with drones now tasked on cleaning rather than stocking or serving. Slipstream was the only one of the resident Seekers still present, save Ramjet himself. She was sitting on what had been the dance floor, giddy and talking to a few mechs who may have been dance partners or musicians. Ramjet gave a nod to Red and they approached Slipstream.
Those closest to her were Talon, Airwave and Glit – weird designation, Ramjet thought, but that's what they called the cat. Ramjet found the way the feline-form mech was rubbing against his fellow clone predatory. "I'd love for you all to stay here," Ramjet said, "But it's against fire code for guests to camp on the dance floor."
"Starscream didn't come back?" Ramjet was not entirely sure if this was a question or a statement.
"Red, you see Starscream?"
"He did not return, but I am certain he is only recharging or perhaps decided to relieve Dirge."
Ramjet did not say, but it was a little suspicious, now he thought about it, that Dirge had never come to the party. He wondered if Starscream had gone to relieve him.
"Did he ever give you that dance?" Talon asked slyly.
Slipstream looked to the jet at her left. She had seen a lot of dated or trendy decos, since arriving in New Kaon, but Talon's was one of the more attractive; his nanites maintained a coat of interference paint, so that depending on the angle of light and view, his armor appeared blue, or silver, or black. He had danced well, too, and though Slipstream did not recall noticing him in the sky before, she had the feeling she was going to be watching for him now, to see if he flew as well. He was one of the Predators, but not as aggressive as Skyquake, assertive as Falcon, or know-it-all as Skydive. And, his name sounded like a character in a show she liked to watch.
"I'm sure he just had something to take care of," Airwave said, "Slipstream's high enough in rank within her team to know the projects Starscream would be working on, even if we don't."
"And, I'm not telling," Slipstream enunciated slowly, to avoid slurring.
"Still a promise to one's intended is no small matter that should be overlooked," Talon said, attempting to insult Airwave's smaller size as Airwave had mocked his lower rank, while still drawing attention to Starscream's negligence.
"Ramjet and I are going to authorize access to the barracks on the next level," Red Alert interjected.
Ramjet had not known this, but he quickly sensed Red's motivation was to give the mechs fighting over his sister a safe, nearby place to recharge before the argument escalated beyond verbal barbs. In Ramjet's thinking, Slipstream was one who appreciated verbal barbs and this was just clever courting on the part of the two fliers. Yet, he could see Slipstream was still somewhat overcharged and had enough matters virtually weighing on her processor that some shut-down would be beneficial.
"Slipstream, walk with us as far as operations," Ramjet said, "That is – If you would, Commander, seeing as how I have superior capability with the systems there and very high clearance...I do not really need your help."
Slipstream stood, then staggered forward a step one foot crossing in front of the other, and swayed. Clearly she was overcharged enough that surges were affecting her gyro-stabilizers. "Ramjet! You need to stop making excuses and show some responsibility! You are just as capable a mech as the rest of your brothers. Ridiculous a clone of Starscream not being familiar with Decepticon Operations consoles and procedures!"
"Yeah, I am the one who looks irresponsible here," Ramjet snarked, but he knew Slipstream had a point. He was by no means unintelligent or unskilled. He just felt more comfortable being the joker; not that he wanted to admit this to anyone. Red Alert squeezed his hand with her smaller one. She had always perceived Ramjet as bright and capable, though she did find his sense of humor most attractive.
"Maybe Ramjet and I can handle operations," Red Alert said, "He should be responsible enough to not allow me access to any sensitive systems."
Slipstream was overcharged, but she had not lost all her faculties. "As I am sure that as these mechs have realized," she began, referring to Glit and the two fliers, and speaking mainly for their benefit, "you are with our team at Lord Starscream's sufferance, because he respects you as a scientist and a medi-bot, and because Ramjet so values your company. Be assured I can monitor Operations from my own quarters, and if I find any unauthorized access, I will know who to question first!" Meaning Red Alert, of course, "And, then I will go ask Ravage!" Slipstream said to Glit. It would do none of them good to provide the Secret Police with a perfectly set-up Autobot patsy.
"Airwave, Commander," Ramjet spoke, imitating Thundercracker a bit in his formality, "We would appreciate if you escorted Slipstream to her door. I should be able to get to Operations and grant you access to the barracks by the time you return, that is unless you feel so inclined to return to your quarters outside of Darkspire tonight."
"Very good," Airwave agreed.
"Can't have it look like fraternizing, can we?" asked Ramjet, so the other two would understand the choice.
Talon took some time to say farewell to Slipstream, which Airwave politely tolerated, while Glit slunk away.
Ramjet and Red Alert made their way to Operations, on the same level as the assembly hall. It was a large chamber, designed to allow a Decepticon of City Commander rank or better to monitor both Darkspire and the surrounding City-state of New Kaon, and to provide facilities to plan and implement strategy in time of conflict. There were large monitor and projection tables to display video and holographics, and multiple workstations at which the Commander's staff could communicate in real time with any troops in the field, or operate defense systems.
Ramjet was not a City Commander, but Darkspire – a non-sentient AI itself – recognized Thundercracker as its current commander and his fellow Seeker clones as Officers in his command. Starscream and other members of team Luna were registered as support members of the team and had lesser clearance. Ramjet used his officer access codes to activate one of the workstations.
He did know how to work Decepticon systems. Slipstream would have done it faster, but she had been correct in saying Ramjet was capable. He authorized temporary public access to the barracks on the level above operations, and then made a public address using Darkspire's internal communications, "This is your Captain speaking, please note that pools and bar on the Lido deck are now closing. I welcome you all to enjoy our accommodations in the cabins on the deck above. A continental breakfast will be provided in the morning, for those who wish to dine with the Captain. Have a pleasant night."
Ramjet then checked the workstation monitors. There were five levels of the building showing activity: ground floor, operations, barracks, training and officer's quarters. There was one Autobot energy signal, coming from Operations, which was as expected. There were numerous undisguised Decepticon signatures within the building. Ramjet manipulated a few controls and assigned a display color code to those signatures also corresponding to the Luna battlenet. Thundercracker was the one using a training room. Ramjet knew he was in Operations. Most of the others appeared to be already up in the officers quarters; Slipstream the one on the way up.
Ramjet gestured for Red Alert to look with him. There was still a lot of activity in the building. Blips were showing up against the three dimensional schematic of Darkspire's internal structures. Ramjet snickered a laugh. There were so many blips converged in twos or threes, in unused conference rooms, storage compartments, or emergency stairwells. "Would never expect a Decepticon stronghold to have security cameras everywhere," Ramjet said sarcastically.
"I can speak Decepticon a lot better than read it," Red Alert admitted, "does this indicate feeds being recorded and archived?"
"No. Absolutely not!" He said smugly, "I am so not coming back to check the video tomorrow!"
"For purely security-related purposes, of course."
"Of course."
Red Alert leaned into Ramjet's arm. "It is nice, in a way, so many 'Cons coupling off."
"Says the Autobot?"
Red Alert giggled. "I just mean...that's part of your plan, right? Thundercracker's grand design? To save the faction with breeding."
"Let's do a really lengthy security sweep before going to our own chamber."
"All right, we'll be quick about it," Red Alert promised, "just consider it a nesting instinct. I need to feel somewhat safe so I can be relaxed when I'm with you."
"I keep you safe," Ramjet said truthfully.
Red Alert tugged on Ramjet's left arm. "Just a quick sweep."
The security sweep started on the ground floor. Ramjet switched the lock status of the main entrance from permit two-way traffic to permit exit only. From there, they swiftly patrolled the floor, opening doors, listening for sounds, and scanning for energy signatures. Ramjet was sure there had been activity in one of the large conference rooms down here.
When he opened the door, he saw at least four grounders engaged in some manner of intimate activity, much of it on the surface of the conference table, with silhouettes cast on the screen customarily used for projection of hardcopy transparency maps and schematics. "Support your decision to not GET A ROOM!" he called.
Ramjet closed the door.
"Were they?" Red Alert asked. She had not dared to look.
"No. No toys or mods. No sticky residue. No scuffs on the table. No exotic location or inappropriate use of a projection system."
"Anyone I know?"
Ramjet shook his head.
"And – how do you even know what toys and mods look like?"
"Obviously an expert. What do you think?"
"I think that my old school chum has been a bit sheltered given his high rank and specific arenas of study and combat, but whatever he did glean in all his years, you seem to remember."
Ramjet smirked. "I suppose you are a real expert."
"I do have creators in Enforcement and the Mods Market. There are a lot of different kinds of mods. And, I did rotations in emergency service stations. You would not believe some of the stories. Some interface mod glitches causing mechs to become magnetically locked together in rather compromising positions....small foreign objects...."
"No such thing as too much information," Ramjet groaned. "And I was dreading you saying you'd been to pleasure houses on Cybertron."
"I have, but-"
"I can't picture you and other noble, law abiding Autobots raunching it up at a pleasure house the night before someone's bonding ceremony."
"Yes, that's exactly what happened," Red Alert said sarcastically. Actually, it had only involved a few drinks and watching dancers.
"I so need these speculative renderings in my processor right now!"
"Then, is it a bad time to tell you – you deserve to hear it from me now we're bonded – I did pose for a fund raising calendar-"
"What?"
Red Alert nodded. "With Inferno and Hot Spot and some others; to raise funds for victims of refinery explosions, during the war."
"I never want to see that image! I mean, right now, I do not need to see it!"
"I might have a copy saved on one of my drives," Red Alert suggested. She knew when she said it that she was going to run, and Ramjet was going to chase.
The chase went through ground floor corridors; up a stairwell, where Falcon and Skyquake were having a spat; onto the training level, where they stumbled upon Thundercracker and Thunderblast sparring with melee weapons; and back up to the Operations level, where Ramjet lost traction of the floor plates – possibly due to a previous spill – and careened into the door to a storage room, where Acid Storm and Overcast had sought privacy.
"I know you don't think this is my fault!" Ramjet called, as he scrambled out of their way, "Get a Room!"
"Slag it!" Acid Storm cursed.
"Hush, do not stop now," Overcast whispered. He twisted slightly, carefully, as their sparks were connected, to shield Acid Storm from the open doorway with his right wing.
"He broke my concentration!" Acid Storm said desperately, "I can't." His spark, the bright blue one, withdrew quickly into the shelter of its protective chamber.
Overcast was still, but for his claws petting Acid Storm's left wing and faceplate. His spark, golden in color, hovered for another nanocycle, between them, and then retreated. "It is all right. We can try again."
"Don't say 'it's all right', like you are trying so hard not to blame me!" Acid Storm raged.
Overcast knew very well that Acid Storm knew there was no blame intended; they were bonded. So, Overcast knew Acid Storm's anger was truly a result of his self-doubt. He said nothing; only continued the soothing gestures. They had been bonded for millions of stellar cycles, a megacycle apart did not change that they knew their way around each other and their emotions.
"I was so close," Acid Storm whispered, "We were so close."
"I know." Overcast wanted it to happen, too. He truly felt fortunate they had Drench; grateful beyond what mere words could explain, and he thought, if they were really not to have another, he could come to accept that. Still, Overcast was with Acid Storm in this 100%; he wanted to conceive another.
"They have no idea!" Acid Storm complained, sadly. "The slagging Cyber Ferry decides to visit and they think that is all there is to it!"
"They are just young. We cannot blame them for that. I know you do not truly spite them."
Acid Storm did want those young Seekers to find their own mates, if they so chose, and their own happiness. But, even wishing for their happiness, and wishing they would never have to know what he knew, he could not help feeling old, and maybe even glitched...jealous. "They think it's easy. Think you just get 'sparked-up' and that's it. No complications! No haloes when you are hoping for a spark. No spontaneous loss of field cohesion. No-"
"I know. I was there. I do not want us to dwell on this," Overcast said.
"I like talking. It helps me. I'm a talkative mech." This was true; they both knew. Acid Storm relied on technology for some part of his information gathering, but largely he relied on personal communications, networking, social skills. These were his strong points, not those of Overcast. They were a good match intellectually, but Overcast was a little more comfortable with devices than with other beings. It was good; they complemented each other's strengths and weaknesses.
"Tell me about the good parts, Cid. Tell me what you are happy with. Tell me what you want. You want me to stay downtown with you?"
"You love me, Cast; you don't love the city."
"Yes, but I can tolerate the city for you."
"Lord Starscream needs us right now. I want you to help him."
"I will." Their loyalty to Starscream was very real and very personal. It was nothing Starscream had ever demanded, but something they had chosen to give.
"But..." Acid Storm vented a sigh and relaxed his posture, a little. He leaned forward and put his helm to Overcast's left shoulder. The good parts, Acid Storm thought. "We've been well in sync lately. We were never bad, but it feels good now, strong." Overcast knew he meant the bond, and the dynamic between it and each of them. "I would like if you visited. I know you finished one of your projects. And Starscream will likely have some others to help him, so you do not have the full burden."
Overcast had finished Drench's first set of youngling armor and age-appropriate mods. Their sparkling was not quite ready for upgrade, but he would be soon. "I would like that, too." It was often convenient for them to live apart. Their duties differed. Overcast could concentrate for longer periods of time on his weather control devices and other inventions, while Acid Storm could play at being more lonely than he every truly was, in order to invite others to confide in him. Still, Overcast would admit, sometimes, after all this time, he just forgot how beneficial it was to meet to renew bonds and vows. Sometimes, it really did help to be able to touch. "I will set reminders."
"You will forget," Acid Storm insisted, without animosity. Overcast was like that. He would remember how much he liked spending time together, when Acid Storm did finally drag him out of the lab, but he always forgot first. "I will call."
Acid Storm was good about calling. "At your beck and call, then," Overcast agreed.
"There is something I would like to do now," Acid Storm said. "You stowed some energon."
Overcast turned his left arm to open a storage compartment. He had in fact stowed away several small cubes of premium grade energon, from the buffet.
"You want to fuel-up and go flying with me?"
"Yes."
"We will try again, though," Acid Storm said firmly, "Soon. When you visit. We will lock the doors and play music and ignore all comms."
"Or, spontaneity?"
"Because it turned out so well this time?" Acid Storm laughed.
"Almost."
Acid Storm smiled, lifting one of the cubes. "Well, we will see how I feel after a romantic night flight."
"I will be willing to try again."
"I know." Acid Storm said, "You are the dependable one." Except when he forgot to visit, but Overcast was a very dependable mate overall, especially when it came to duties in the berth or aerial combat. It was in some ways a shame they had so little cause for aerial combat these days; they excelled at it. "You feel like making a storm?"
"I would love to!" Overcast's optics flashed brightly. He loved creating his inventions, but he loved getting to show them off even more.
It was not very long before Overcast's cloud generators and bolts of electricity combined with Acid Storm's cloud seeding to form a sudden plague of darkness, red clouds and acid rain over downtown New Kaon. There was a common Decepticon proverb that said: Red clouds at night; Seekers delight. The Autobots of Cybertron used to have a different proverb that said: Red clouds in morning; 'Bots take warning. Regardless of faction, the corrosive rain combined with electrical discharge played havoc with armor plating and exposed circuitry. Any Decepticons who had been on the streets of downtown, quickly took shelter or sped up to outrace the storm.
The storm did not have the ability to track targets as it had when Dreadwind had been with the Rainmakers, but that issue was at the top of Overcast's punch list.
Inside Darkspire, Thundercracker heard the boom resulting from electrical discharge in the atmosphere above. He leapt backward, away from Thunderblast, to listen. "It has been a little while since I was on a planet with weather. I did not realize a storm was approaching."
Thunderblast halted her advance. "There was not, but you did have the two remaining Rainmakers as guests."
"Acid Storm and Overcast. They were sitting at the nearby table, with Skywarp." And Barricade, Thundercracker thought. "We have been at this a while...."
"Good match?" Thunderblast said, hint of a question, inquiring whether Thundercracker was finished sparring.
"Yes," Thundercracker confirmed. "Quite good. You are a capable fighter."
Thunder boomed again from outside. "Will your team go back to Earth?" Thunderblast asked.
She had been there. Thundercracker knew this from the various personnel files in Starscream's memory. Not before the war, but during. An expedition to find resources for the war efforts. The voyage of the Decepticon starship Atlantis had been considered a failure; the ship lost, its Seekers and other crew lost. A portion had survived, on Earth, without a means of contacting home. Thunderblast and others had been imprisoned by Autobots.
Since meeting, they had discussed that both had encountered Crosswise. They had not, specifically, discussed Earth.
"I am undecided," Thundercracker said, "It is common knowledge we have ties there, roots if you will."
"If you were to take such a voyage, General, I could be an asset there."
Thundercracker nodded. He had been informed of Ravage's visit and intention to go with them to Earth. It was part of his plan that his team find worthy new teammates for such a voyage. Thunderblast had skills enough, but Thundercracker was uncertain of her motivation. "Do you know Scalpel?"
She laughed bitterly. "You might say that." Thundercracker did not know what to make of her tone. In truth, Thunderblast and Scalpel had courted, once, in the past; it had never formally been concluded. They had been separated by circumstance, and never since taken the opportunity to meet and declare the courtship successful, or not.
"I ask because, he is the only aquatic-type we currently have on our team. In fact, he just formally transferred and was made our CMO – it means-"
"Chief Medical Officer."
"Yes. Earlier this past local solar day. If you were to join our team, you would likely be expected to work with him at times, on missions that require aquatic types."
"I understand, Sir. With your approval, I would also like to transfer to your team."
"You have a cell or team leader now?"
"I have been doing some...administrative tasks for our Lord Governor."
"I see." That did not sound like worthy work for any Decepticon. There was some need for efficient communications and archiving of data, but drones and automated systems could hand much of that. "It would be a step down, from a post under such a high ranking Decepticon."
"I see more opportunity away from New Kaon."
"I appreciate your interest." His team really was the best. Decepticons should show interest. Thundercracker could not just choose anyone for the team. They had to be worthy. "When I have decided, I will contact you."
"Thank you, Sir!" Thunderblast said, betraying some excitement.
"That earlier gibberish over the intercom was Ramjet. I invite you to stay in the barracks. The storm."
"Thank you, again! I really, really appreciate it!"
Thundercracker returned his swords to his wing mounts and bowed his head very slightly, in acknowledgement. "I have matters which to attend," he said, then made his way to the upper level, where the officers quarters were located.
In Starscream's personal quarters, a small group had gathered, mostly at Starscream's invitation. Scalpel and Skywarp had actually been summoned by comm. Barricade had arrived with Skywarp, but was welcomed quickly by Starscream, who seemed to think he had skills required for the task at hand. Glit had arrived lately, overcharged and lacking in the field of knowledge required, but as some manner of kin to Scalpel and Ravage, was not one Starscream intended to offend – not openly.
The task at hand was analyzing a bit of aerial combat strategy. Starscream had prepared some vector graphics, mathematical calculations and various other aids, including declaration of variables in use and charts listing technical specifications of aerospace craft relevant to the strategy. Or, this was what Starscream claimed he was analyzing.
Skywarp and Scalpel each had the knowledge to recognize that the tech specs were those of Starscream and Slipstream respectively. Barricade did not know much about aerodynamics or aerial combat, but he had capable math processor and keen logic circuits enough to recognize this was a matter of determining whether it was physically possible for Seeker designated 'omega' to catch Seeker designated 'trion'. Starscream was attempting to prove that he could by some means pursue and catch Slipstream.
Starscream rubbed his helm in frustration. He had been working on this, secretly, since they began their voyage to New Kaon aboard the Lazy Susan. He had simply assumed, at first that it must be possible. That Slipstream was wrong about her theories. That even if it were true they each were driven to play hard to get – desired to be challenged, yet caught and claimed – if one of them did decide to pursue, rather than chase, they could catch the other.
He was beginning to fear his assumptions were incorrect. Maybe had had been too arrogant, or greedy. He had assumed to quickly, and now failed?
Skywarp was supposed to be helping. He was supposed to sneakily be acting as Starscream's confidant in this and checking his math with that renown math processor that could handle transwarp navigation calculations. Instead, Skywarp was busily conversing with Barricade and Glit.
It sounded like, "flavor...buzz buzz...spin...buzz...charge...buzz buzz...mass," to Starscream, where 'buzz' was incomprehensible physics babble that Starscream did not consciously register.
A pause, then Barricade would reply something like, "Buzz? Unifying...buzz buzz...slaggin...other 17 dimensions...buzz buzz."
Meanwhile, Glit would talk over Barricade with some slurred, overcharged boasting about the famous places he had performed or a new nanoagent he had created.
Skywarp would, cautiously, fawn over the feline-form mech. "A cat who is doctor and a famous singer? Kawaii! That's almost as cute as humans being florists and secret agents!" He would then reply to Barricade, "Gravitation....buzz buzz...strange...charm...buzz buzz."
A pause, and then Barricade might say, "top...bottom?"
Starscream was fairly certain Barricade and/or Skywarp was coming someone. There was just enough lag in their conversation to allow for the processor to carry two conversations at once. "Skywarp!" Starscream called.
"Yes?" Skywarp said timidly, though he had just seemed coy with Glit and surprisingly confident with Barricade. "My Liege?"
"The math. Does it really check-out?"
"Yes," Skywarp whispered. He received another comm from Barricade.
'It is not going to work, so long as there's the air pressure differential created by the pursuit of one behind the other. The one behind saves fuel, but the one in front received a speed boost. The only way might be for one to continue pursuit until the other runs out of fuel.'
'There is a simpler solution, at least one. Think outside the construct. Do not assume too much.' Skywarp then spoke aloud, "I think you are doing well already, if you do not mind me saying."
"Sunstorm phrases his flattery with a bit more flair," Starscream said, annoyed. The air pressure differential. "What about in space?"
'One of them could just decide not to try so hard to get away,' Barricade commed.
Skywarp smiled, for Barricade, but he looked toward Starscream, "You have not given your work for me to proof, but my estimation is that, given your stats, you would both end up at the same constant speed, given your mass and thrust."
"That can't be right. I know I am faster than Slipstream."
"But she has just slightly less mass...My Liege," Skywarp offered.
'Could run this in a slew of different atmospheres,' Barricade commed, 'It's always going to be pretty slaggin close.'
Skywarp commed back, 'It is actually more pointless than that. Given their special abilities, even if one could match the other's speed for a few nanocycles, they could not physically catch the other unless they wanted to be caught.'
"Sir," Barricade said aloud, "what about weapons? Couldn't one of these Seekers disable the other as soon as they were in range?"
"Of course we could!" Starscream began. He realized, firstly, that he did not intent to make it obvious to Barricade this matter involved Slipstream and himself, and secondly, that weapons might not even work. "I mean – Seekers designated omega and trion are highly capable with evasive maneuvers. Highly capable."
Barricade commed Skywarp again, while pretending to study the chart of tech specs. 'Why is Starscream doing this? Isn't he already courting her and she defending her right to be his mate against challengers?'
'He thinks solving the math problem will "prove" his worthiness.' Skywarp was about to suggest to Starscream that maybe science could not solve all problems in life, but there was a knock at the door.
It was Thundercracker; Starscream keyed the door open to admit him, before Thundercracker decided to use a command override.
Starscream signaled Scalpel to shut down the projection, just as Thundercracker stepped inside. "What is this? After party?"
"We were just talking about physics!" Skywarp said suddenly, as if frightened.
Starscream and Thundercracker both looked at him in suspicion. Barricade ducked his head and tried to look small. "Yes," Starscream said slowly, "No doubt someone as keenly interested in leadership skills recalls Barricade used to be Megatron's go-to mech for science matters."
Barricade shifted one of the four lenses in his optics to Starscream, but kept his head down.
"He piloted the nemesis!" Skywarp said, "I didn't know grounders could be pilots."
Thundercracker huffed through his vents and looked down at Barricade. "That was a little elitist, Skywarp," Thundercracker said, "of course grounders can be pilots; someone has to stay with the ship when the Seekers are all dispatched to gather intel on a new planet."
"Someone has to leave the light on so you can find your way home," Barricade muttered.
Starscream laughed at this.
"With me, Warp," Thundercracker commanded.
Skywarp stood gracefully and stepped to Thundercracker. Thundercracker took his leave of them. "My Liege. Doctor. Other Doctor. Sergeant."
"General," Barricade said lazily.
Starscream saluted playfully.
"So formal today," Scalpel complained.
Skywarp just waved, then followed closely after Thundercracker as he left. 'TC, was there something? Are you overcharged? You did not even banter with Starscream.'
Thundercracker reached for Skywarp's nearby hand; took Skywarp's right in his left. He was irritated. Skywarp had smiled. He had not smiled because Thundercracker had arrived. No, he had become defensive when that happened. Physics my sine function, Thundercracker thought. That shifty-opticed security mech was playing at something, probably his old tricks; Thundercracker knew what Barricade was like, from memory.
"Thundercracker?" Skywarp recognized they were heading for their quarters, where Drench was sleeping.
Sure, Thundercracker thought, Skywarp was smart enough to see Barricade was setting him up. Yes, Skywarp was a mastermind; he had to see. Maybe the smile had been fake, to lure Barricade into a false sense of security. Beat him at his own game. But then, he could have faked the smiled for Thundercracker.
Impossible. Inconceivable. Skywarp was his, forever. He was special, no one else. Skywarp wanted him. He was all Skywarp needed. He could provide. He could give Skywarp anything he wanted; everything he wanted.
They turned the corner and soon came to the door to their chamber.
The smile had not been false, Thundercracker thought, not for him.
Thundercracker turned and put his right hand to Skywarp's cockpit canopy and pressed him to the wall, just across from their door. "Thundercracker," Skywarp whispered, "What is it? Wh-what do you want?"
Thundercracker lifted his right hand from Skywarp's chest and placed a single claw-tip to his lip plates. "Only what I have always wanted. For you to smile." For me, he thought. Thundercracker did not watch Skywarp's mouth to see if he might smile. He touched their helms together. Their fields entwined.
Skywarp knew Thundercracker's doubt, and his desire. He drew his right hand from Thundercracker, then lifted both hands to touch claws to Thundercracker's wings. The touch made Thundercracker shiver. "This?" Skywarp asked. Thundercracker shifted his hands to Skywarp's midsection.
To Thundercracker, Skywarp's touch, and his field were confident; reassuring. Of course, Thundercracker told himself, there had been no cause to doubt. He was superior to all others. Of course Skywarp could not be interested in any other. "I know what you want," Thundercracker said confidently. He pressed against Skywarp, cockpit gliding just left of Skywarp's.
"Want you," Skywarp said. His left foot rose; his heel knocked playfully against Thundercracker's right tailfin. "Always wanted you."
Was this special enough? Thundercracker felt doubt again. He had to make it special. He was worthy of no less! Skywarp was worthy of no less. "Needs to be perfect."
"It is. Stay with me," Skywarp pleaded. His claws grasped the leading edge of Thundercracker's wings. "It is perfect if it's you. I'm not afraid, if it's you."
Thundercracker's spark spun in its chamber. He could feel it. He could feel so much. "I can give you what you want," Thundercracker said. He tilted his head, toward the right, approximately 45 degrees. "Give you release from vows."
"I'm yours."
Thundercracker pressed his mouth lightly to Skywarp's. He knew Warp's scent, the invisible colors of his field, the electrical tingle of physical contact, but he had never before sampled his taste.
Nothing.
Neutral.
No taste but the same taste that existed in Thundercracker's own mouth. No secret flavor perceived by his processor at the particular combination of metals, petrochemicals, and CNA that signified compatibility. No recharge tale sweetness of true love or trine.
Nothing.
Thundercracker drew away from Skywarp, shaking. He could not accept. He could not process this data. Logic circuits could not comprehend. No!
He wanted to give Skywarp everything he wanted; he was insufficient.