Author's NB: Ah haha, sorry about the lack of update, I've had to sort out a heap of stuff for the new shanty I now abide in, my orientation weeks at work are morning shifts and they always leave me buggered, and I've had more issues then I'd like to admit dealing with the phone company who runs the net connection – the bastards outsource the phone tech support people to some God forsaken country where they learn English from American DVDs or something. Seriously, that does not make one qualified to deal with the New Zealand accent – I am not angry at you, that is how all NZLer's sound, and we just want shit sorted!

Like, they told me on the 5th they'd have the net connected in three working days, I ring on the 9th and the woman tells me in this phoney Yank accent "yes, but it will be three working days'. It's the 9th. What's 9 – 5? Well, whatever it is, its more then three!! Then she actually suggests to ring after 6pm on a Friday. Yeah, because I'm sure there'll be some guy in his office in NZL after 6 on a Friday. Stupid idiots. Seriously. Literally, I'd spend 30 minutes on the phone with these douche bags and I had at least 10 conversations with them over the course of a week and then I finally get a NZLer to speak to and in less then three minutes I have the Webs.

So, moral of that story – bloody don't outsource to a people who don't know or understand the Kiwi accent! Damn!

Sorry, that was a long rant, anyway, I'm feeling a bit bummed due to bad news that a friend from an online forum I post at, and I've known this guy for 10 years, died in a plane wreck a few days ago. I tend to write more when I'm a bit down in the dumps.

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Dedicated to Doyle (Because Lord knows you loved a good fart/faeces joke!!)

Your passion for the Unborn and your fantastic Agnostic Pro-Life arguments will never be forgotten. Your actions saved countless children from death and spared their mothers the heartache that abortion brings. Agnostic or not, God has saved you a seat in Heaven for the work you did to save those precious lives.

You will be truly missed.

RIP "Yodavater".

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Chapter Fifty

24th December

1303hrs

Occasionally a dog will fart itself awake.

An incredibly amusing, albeit crass thought, and surely a sight many with or near to a sleeping dog may have witnessed! That was kind of how Sunstreaker came back online. Only, instead of a release of gas, it was a slight movement that caused the mud he lay in to release a sloppy sound, thus waking him.

He sat up abruptly and glanced around – or tried too, the blackness he had woken to was tricksey, it didn't help that his optics were on the fritz, had they been damaged? He recalled sustaining damage to his optics, or had he? He was confused. His memory banks were a jumble; he couldn't place recent events into any coherent time frame. Sighing he pulled his weary structure out of the mud. He recalled being upset, perhaps weeping… though it didn't seem like something he'd do, and if it was something he'd done, it be stored away in his memory banks away from prying optics, never mentioned again, not even through the link he shared with his twin.

Sideswipe.

Where was he?

Oh, yeah, now he recalled, he had started sobbing when the realisation that the link was broken between them had made itself clear, he had sobbed when he concluded that his twin, his brother, Sideswipe, was most probably dead – what else could have resulted in the hushed removal of the link?

"I'm gonna get them for you, Sides".

He growled as he lent against the soft wall with his lower arm.

The lights in his form were no longer in any operational state – had they been anyway? He wondered, but couldn't discern the truth. There was no point moping, there was no point in cringing about the deep unforgiving pitch that paid him no mind, he just had to get on with it, he just had to continue, even if it meant without his brother, perhaps even if it meant without his sanity… had he even had that to start with? Or had his brother been a calming effect on his circuits? He'd heard that somewhere, though, the concept that a twin or triplet Transformer, when faced with the loss of their other/s had spiralled into the insanity of link breakage. That they were indeed only one mind, one spark, and when one part of the whole was gone forever, they were not complete, they were not balanced, they were left to the inevitable crash that would bring.

He'd never met another set of Autobot twins or triplets, there were a few whispers that Jazz and Prowl had been twins, but they were, of course, bullshit rumours, and if it were true, surely Jazz would have "gone off his nut" as the humans say, by now, given Prowl had been dead a good several months. He had heard of a set of Decepticon twins, one had been culled at the hands of Ironhide, Magnus in one story, Kup's in another, and yet another detailed Perceptor doing it, that one of course had to be rubbish. As it was, the story was always changing in the minute details, but the big detail, the detail that the survivor had completely lost it and had actually turned on his brethren, taking out several 'Con officers was always the same. As much variation as there was in who killed the twin, there was just as much regarding how long it took for him to loose it completely. One story said just two cycles, another said a vorn. It didn't really matter much. And haha for the 'cons, the twin would always say. Sunstreaker pushed aside such thoughts. He realised he didn't have the emotional energy, or any energy to waste on such considerations.

Then something strange happened.

Well, not so much strange as random, but definitely very much welcome.

Sunstreaker found himself staring into a dimly lit cabin, a shuttle sitting in the corner and Autobots sitting in the centre of the chamber.

"WHAT THE SLAG!"

Springer was amongst them.

The green triple changer was up to his feet and soon bearing down on the gold twin.

"You son of a retro-slag! I'm gonna pound you into sheet metal so thin Megatron's rusting corpse wouldn't even consider using you to wipe his arse!"

Springer slammed the twin up against the soft muddy wall.

"Springer, cool your cylinders, lad, this ain't gonna help none".

Kup groaned as he pushed himself up from his sitting position.

Springer pulled back and grumbled a few unpleasant Cybertronian curses under his breath, but inwardly, was grateful for the old timer's words, it gave him an excuse to not exert any energy beating the twin, he'd save some face.

Rodimus just sat there, in the cold sludge, tired, and not in any mood to do anything. There was still that usual sheepish cheek in his optics, but in his mind, things had dragged out too long and had gotten way out of control, especially his control.

"So, when are we actually going to do something?"

Springer decided to ask, if only to protect his mechly reputation after not pummelling on Sunstreaker.

All optics, and one set of human eyes came to rest on the apparently lazy commander.

"Why you all looking at me for?"

Rodimus asked, somewhat stunned, but with no reason to be.

"Well, someone has to pick up the responsibility, and as I recall, Hot Rod, you're the boss".

Sunstreaker growled, only ever calling him Hot Rod when he was annoyed with the mech or just wanting to be a retro-bastard.

"Okay, so lets have a CPU storm. One, we're stuck down in an old human mine, with a possible cave in. Two, we're next to an old shuttle with a bunch of dead cons. Three, we're being haunted. Four, Kup reckons it's the ghosts of the Decepticon Matrix. Five, Magnus is completely nutso and offlined some poor bastard mech, and is now running around down here with us. Six, we're in the company of a crazy, unconscious scientist. Seven, Sideswipe is down here somewhere and we don't know where. Eight, we all have some level of injury and we're all dead tired. Nine, Spike looks like he needs to take a dump and I can just bet how embarrassed he'd be if he had to do it behind those rocks over there. So, yeah, any one got any ideas how we get out of this mess, feel free to make a suggestion".

"What if we dug our own tunnel out?"

Spike asked a hint of irritation in his voice, probably from the dump comment.

"And how do you propose we do that, in case you hadn't noticed, you're not in the presence of Constructicons".

Sunstreaker said sarcastically.

"Well, you have hands, don't you?"

Spike spat back.

"Excuse me? I thought I heard a mouse fart!"

"This is your fucking fault, you know, you sissy girl's blouse! If you and that no-good brother of yours could deal with your responsibilities I'd be spending Christmas with my family and not stuck down in a mud hole with a bunch of Autobots who are here because of your bullshit!"

Spike yelled.

"Whatever!"

The twin flicked his hand up and tentatively flipped the human off.

"Hey, just cool it, okay, this won't help anyone".

Jazz said calmly.

"Well, we have to come up with some kind of plan, because I for one don't want to be down here much longer".

Blaster chimed, but his voice didn't contain the usual "glass is half full" sort of optimism.

There followed the usual clichéd silence.

Spike sighed softly; he got up, and started digging at one of the walls.

"I don't know what you guys are planning to do, but I'm going to at least try and get the hell out of here".

"Don't be insane, you can't dig upwards!"

Sunstreaker growled in frustration as he walked over and began to pull at the rocks. Blaster and Jazz joined suit and Springer just stood with Rodimus and Kup watching.

"Lad, its going to take more then a diagonal tunnel upwards to get us out, and what are we going to do about finding Sideswipe and sorting out Magnus?"

Kup asked.

"Not to mention hauling Percy out of here".

Springer added.

The young Autobot leader took the Matrix from his chest and clawed at it for a few moments in an awkward attempt to get it open. It stayed firmly shut.

"That's probably not going to work, lad".

"Why not? It's a pretty dark hour, and you'd think with a Decepticon Matrix the thing would be rearing to go".

The aerial commander pointed out.

Rodimus continued to struggle with the gem.

"You guys aren't helping".

He pointed out.

"Yeah, well, neither are you!"

"Ooh great come back, Rod!"

The Autobot leader grew frustrated and gave up on his attempt. He replaced the Matrix into his chest compartment and turned and looked at the still out of it scientist.

"Kup".

He said as he approached the unconscious Autobot.

"If Percy is nuts, and it's the sparks of evil Decepticons that are causing all this, would that mean that Perceptor is possessed by one of them?"

"Um… yeah, where've ya been, Roddi?"

Springer sarcastically asked.

"Its possible Lad, in fact more then possible".

"So, maybe, just maybe, if we wake the guy up he could tell us something, well, the ghost in him could tell us something… like how to get rid of them?"

"Lad, I just don't know".

"Kup, for once you're being asked both your opinion and your experience, just answer the fucking question even if you don't know, just fake it!"

Sunstreaker called back from his digging attempts, which were rather delicate and vanity focussed.

"It's a lot more complicated then just what I remember".

Kup countered.

"Well, wouldn't it stand to reason that they once stopped the ghosties, so all you gotta do is recall how that was done".

Jazz asked.

"I think its pretty obvious that no one ever stopped the ghosties, they simply flicked the thing into some shuttle and sent it off into space, and the poor bastards who got the job of piloting the ship weren't planning on making a return trip".

Spike said as he pulled a small piece of rotten wood out of the sod.

Rodimus was about to make a comment when a sudden shudder passed through the ground.

"What was that?"

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Author's NB: Yeah, I know "tricksey" isn't a word (my English major brother said it wasn't) but I like to use it cos I like LOTR. Meh. :p