Disclaimer: Hasbro and Takara-Tomy own Transformers. I just like hounding their giant robots.

Warnings: Offensive language/terminology, hazing(?), and a bad time to be the new guy.

"This Machine Kills New Recruits"

The average Cybertronian spine was amazing. It looked, as Cypress explained to Ratchet via less-than-anatomically correct sketch, a centipede. One long, segmented piece with sharp, curved prongs reaching out.

Like the rest of the body, it could take all sort of abuse, even up to being blown apart to a degree. As it turned out, sleeping collapsed over a desk was another one of its weaknesses.

Cypress woke up bent like an "L", stiff and claustrophobic. Their resident medic had one arm propping his helm up and the other draped over her shoulders, tucking her secure into his side.

Ratchet snored less like a human and more like a softly idling engine, complete with the soothing reverberations. Her optics drooped again and settled back atop a datapad called Greyshield's Anatomy.

Then over the ship's intercom, the bass dropped. Or reached a crescendo. Whatever came out of the speakers was classical and loud.

Three things happened at once.

Ratchet sat up swearing, Cypress popped up just in time to see Sideswipe yank back a servo to cover his pronged audio horns, and Jazz was quickly put on the Ark's Most Wanted list, pleaded claims of a system test notwithstanding.

Cypress flicked her audios forward adding a glare with it. "What were you doing?"

"Nothing," Sides trailed, frame sliding to the tabletop to mirror her position. First impressions aside, he wasn't that bad. If Jazz was the charm, Sides was the flirt. He was pretty cool, all things considered.

Some things considered.

He was a good sport about being accidentally poisoned, at least.

Then Side's servo succeeded in its previous mission muss her audios.

"Staaaappph."

"Your audios are weird." He left an unopened energon cube on top of her helm, off to meddle with someone else.

She tucked them backwards again, low and flat, and bit into her fuel. This type of harassment she could tolerate.

Sides parked himself opposite, next to Ratchet as he teasingly held out another cube. "Get some rest, old timer?"

"No thanks to Jazz. You wouldn't have anything to do with that, would you?"

As the frontliner drew out a pathetic excuse, an increasingly familiar gold presence edged into her periphery. Cypress turned around enough to have a clearer view of Sunstreaker staring. No speaking, just staring with no discernable intent.

"Morning."

She got the barest twitch of an optic ridge as a response.

Without a word, Sunstreaker slipped around the workbench to lean into Side's and Ratchet's conversation. She chose to stay on the fringes.

Anything snarky stayed in the deepest recesses of her mind. Antagonizing Prowl was one thing, doing the same to Sunstreaker seemed suicidal. He was less forgiving of poisonings and really, everything.

She tucked back the rest of her cube.

There was a soft pop as Ratchet leaned backwards, stretching, "Before I forget, get over here, kid." Cy spotted the stenciling tool and winced.

"Relax, it'll only hurt a lot." Sunstreaker said flatly.

"Can it, Sunny." The medic tapped the table top they'd been sleeping on, "Left arm out."

Ratchet studied it and quickly located the unidentifiable mark on the upper part. It had been so clear on her skin pre-transformation. Now, it was fading into a smudgy grey mess.

Cypress resisted the urge to squirm like an eel as the tool etched into her metal. It didn't hurt. Sunstreaker was being an aft. It only itched like mad.

"Hold still."

She glared at the grooves forming on her plating, remembering the same carved into every former and, it seemed, every space on the Ark.

"I thought I didn't have to get a brand?"

"Running around out here, you need something. No talking."

Of course, that was when Sideswipe decided to launch into a dramatic retelling of the last Earth film he'd seen, complete with badly pitched voice imitations. Only to be interrupted by Sunstreaker cutting in with what really happened.

All the while, Ratchet hmphed where appropriate.

With the ease of a of a practiced expert, he'd finished the medical sigil on her arm with can of paint and a stencil.

A thick band of red over the green-grey of her upper arm, cut by the white of four slivers meeting in a "plus" formation.

She scratched at the cosmetic ridges the sigil left. It felt…oddly welcoming. He clapped a servo over her shoulder.

"There. You're a medical apprentice. We've got enough idiots shooting each other already."

"Th-Thanks. What does this do?"

"ID you as a medic, thereby useful alive. You might get shot at less."

"Less?"

"No Autobot branding, you're neutral. Odds are you'll get kidnapped instead of shot." Sideswipe added.

"Or just shot anyway, Cons aren't picky."

She ignored Sunstreaker in favor of trying to find her weird birthmark…

Ratchet noticed.

"I did that on purpose…we don't know for sure if your friends-in-the-woods were a localized thing. That emblem could mean something to someone out here. Just like our Autobot branding. We're going out for shore leave to scout for energon. I want you to stay close."

"You call it shore leave even if you're landing on a planet?"

"Blame your translator. Try this on."

He shook out a folded section of dusty brown fabric and slipped over her helm, covering her all the way from her audios to her tailtip.

"It's a nuisance for your vents and you can't transform, but it keeps the sand out."

"I didn't know we wear clothes."

"When you're putting down on a sand planet, yeah. You could suffocate in a sandstorm."

She started tying it tighter around her waist, then gave it a twirl. It was still baggy but at least it wouldn't get in the way of walking.

"Needs some color. It's cute, though."

Ratchet grumbled something like "human brainwashing" but smiled despite it, proud of his work, and readjusted her hood to flop over her forehelm.

"The idea is functionality; not how good you look in it. That's why you alter it." Sunstreaker said coolly, angry optics peering from the cavern his hood and fins made.

He had his tarp closer fit his frame, probably to keep it out of the way for blade use. The mech gave it a once over and began striping it back off.

"Take notes. We're all heading out."

Ratchet nodded.

The frontliner breezed past her without another glyph.

"He's still mad." Sideswipe stage whispered.

"I couldn't tell," she wriggled out of her hood and began packing it away. "That's not a reflection on you, is it?"

"Nah. We're cool, short-stack."

She fought to get from under the second round of audio mussing. "What do I have to do to make it up?"

Ratchet snorted, "Absolutely nothing. Leave him alone. Don't take it to spark. We haven't had a new member in vorns and he's got to get over that. Doesn't help he's a little glitched."

Or that she'd been dropped on Ratch, the twins' old guardian. "Umm…seriously or are we joking?"

"Both." They answered.

With that in mind, she followed them to the rec room where Jazz was in the process of being cornered by Ironhide. Meanwhile, Prowl was doing absolutely nothing to stop it.

Cypress pulled up a chair next to Bee. "Morning, Buttercup."

"Hedgehog."

Cypress paused, "Pri- Prowl."

"No pet name, then?" he made a lethargic attempt at sounding put out.

"You're my teacher. Besides your pet-name is Prick." She winced even as his wings lowered to a slant.

"And you were so close to getting out of extra training."

"Really?"

"Absolutely not."

They watched Hide progress to trapping the Spec Ops mech on a table.

Bee stretched out on the table top, "So when are we going to tell 'Hide he's got the wrong mech?"

Ratchet beat them to it and ratted Sideswipe out allowing Jazz slip away.

The defacto Ops head sat beside her with a heavy clunk. "Thanks for your help, Prowler."

"Anytime."

Cypress smirked, "Awww, he calls you—"

"Hush."

"Anyway!" Bee hefted something large and disc-like onto the table. "Cleaning drone broke."

"Did you punt it down tha hall again?" Jazz asked.

"No, I clipped it walking and that punted it down the hall."

Cypress leaned over to take in the abused drone.

"Poor thing, you're going to help it right?"

"It's not alive, it's just a drone—" Bee frowned, "Did you think they were alive?"

"They" being one of six little mini discs that cruised the ship, hunting for trash. Cypress thought back to the same drone she'd spent a joor fussing over because she spilled oil all over it. That wasn't her main concern though.

"I thought they were pets!"

"No! Ratchet won't let us!"

"Bee, you were feeding it."

"As a joke."

"What are they then?"

"Basically, a slightly smarter vacuum cleaner."

Cypress directed her exasperation at Prowl, "You stood there and watched me apologize to a vacuum cleaner for an hour."

Earlier annoyance forgotten; Jazz started to snicker.

Prowl shrugged with a doorwing, "I have to find entertainment somewhere."

Bee had gotten the ailing drone to power on again and Jazz leaned over to swipe it.

"I got an idea when we were on Earth." He dug around in subspace and pulled out a flimsy knife and what passed for adhesive.

"Jazz no." Prowl cautioned.

Instead of listening to reason, he glued the knife to the drone's top and set it free again to speed out of the room and into the wild.

"Now you won't run into it again and we have a group training exercise."

Optimus walked in before anyone could comment on just how bad an idea it was to give a drone of any intelligence ranking a knife.

She had a feeling Jazz knew.

Optimus stood at the center of the room, waiting, "Are we done?"

Sideswipe managed to free himself from Ironhide's chokehold to sit, only mildly affronted.

"And we're all present? Good. We have a sand planet below us with a high chance of there being energon as well."

Cypress reached out to Prowl tentatively, ~ I thought you just scored on Earth? ~

~ We need to scout while we can. No idea when we'll find fuel next. Space is a desert, remember? ~

"This planet's topographic situation is varied. We're splitting into threes. You know the routine. Sweep the area report back your findings, be careful. Jazz, you'll take Ratchet and Sideswipe. Ironhide, Sunstreaker, and Cypress. Prowl, Bumblebee, with me."

~ Why are our subgroups all split? ~

~ It goes in the order: lead, backup, dumbaft. ~ Jazz put in. He spoke over her and Bee's protests. ~ Also, better protection if our skills are spread out. ~

"Then we're settled?" Prime asked, then nodded. "Be careful."

Sideswipe eased the Ark down gently enough to everyone's relief.

Without the threat of flying into the nearest wall, the Preda moved faster, checking and rechecking her plating. Ironhide said to meet in the hold, and she loathed to keep a new, better armed instructor waiting.

Bee, out of nowhere, fell into step with her.

"Aw, I thought we were going to be able to race…"

"Days not over yet."

"It just might be."

"Is Hide that bad?"

Bee's wings twitched in a withholding shrug.

"Not the one I should be worried about?"

He made a soft whine, "Sure you don't want me to switch with you?"

"I'll be fine. Might as well get it over with."

Her hunch was right, Hide and Sunstreaker were waiting. Hide waved them down, through the hold, and out of the ramp.

The first team out.

The world beyond stretched out forever in a blanket of nearly purple sand.

Something in her frame ached to break and run.

Instead, she watched Ironhide survey the area then hum. "Let's roll then."

She never got tired of watching them transform, every meticulous part somehow refit into an alien vehicle-like shape.

The piercing rev of a high-performance engine snapped her out of her haze, "We're going. Transform."

Considering she liked life, she obeyed.

Cypress followed suit and tore down the ramp, behind Hide and the ornerier twin, dust blowing back in her face.

Running was a prerequisite for keeping up with Bee in alt, but there was only so fast one could go in a constricted hallway. Trying to keep up with a sports car and a heavy-duty truck on open ground was impossible. Either she was really out of shape or cyber-wolf modes were not meant for this.

She gradually fell out of their staggered formation as they blew across a ridge.

Ironhide's left side view mirror angled backwards, "Trouble?"

"Nope, I'm f—" Her rear leg gave out and she hit the sand snout first, then kept rolling down the side of the incline, until she hit the bottom.

It didn't hurt.

There was just sand in every single one of her seams.

:: Kid? :: Ironhide commed.

:: Still alive, just fell. ::

Sunstreaker made a noise of annoyance but she heard the adjustment in his engine's pitch as he slowed.

:: You hurt?::

:: Just my pride. ::

:: We're coming back around. ::

Cypress stood, frame whirring pitifully. She mimicked a thing she'd seen the guys do and ruffled her plating. It did help her vents.

She counted to three and started back up the slope, "Come on, no more surprises. We're almost there."

"Ou pral touye tèt ou nan rit sa." ("You're going to kill yourself at that pace.")

Cypress yelped and backed tail first up the rest of the slope.

The biggest wolf she'd ever seen was staring back at her from a few paces away.

Pewter silver plating glinted dully as the other femme followed her up, fire orange optics intent on some objective only known to her.

"Ironhide?!"

"Why are you walking backwards?"

"There's a—"

The other wolf popped up over the edge, tail flicking casually. On level ground, she was head and shoulders above Cypress and moved with grim purpose in every step. Weaponry powering up had the brief effect of a suspicious side-optic, but "other wolf" kept coming.

Cypress back finally met Ironhide's grill. Somewhere inside her chest cavity a trembling rumble swelled into growl.

At least it got the silver wolf talking again.

"Poukisa ou ap gwonde sou mwen?" ("Why are you growling at me?")

Something painful seized Cypress' spark and she growled louder. She understood; she could hear her as loud and clear as if she were speaking English. It wasn't like typical Cy-Stan, this was familiar and that made it even more terrifying. That and the fact this femme had no scent of her own, just greenery.

Sunstreaker rumbled, "Trankil, runt. Ki sa ki sanble yo dwe pwoblèm nan?" ("Quiet, runt. What seems to be the problem?")

Silver wolf let out a huff of amusement and with a generous accent said: "You speak Predus."

Sunny let out a grunt and transformed. That seemed to be the order of the hour, because everyone else was as well.

Their bipedal alts were similar enough. Silver had no tail in this mode, all her kibble seemed to accumulate around her waist like a wrap, smaller audios—and sharper claws.

"Autobots?" she began with a less-than-neutral glance at their badges.

"Yeah."

She snorted. "What about you, runt?"

Great. The name had stuck. "I understand a little…"

"Non," she snapped. "That much I figure. Whose pack do you hail from?"

"Here. With them."

She made an indescribable noise. "Funny." She said in that tone that said she thought anything but, "Now actually, where are you from?"

Ironhide stepped in, "My turn for questions, is this your territory?"

"No…we're passing through the system. Stopped off for fuel."

"So did we," Ironhide stated, "We'll be on our way."

Silver didn't appear insulted. "Fine. You're an odd trio…"

"And you're alone."

"It would appear so." She cast a glance back to Cypress. "Take care, wanders."

Ironhide watched her like a hawk even after she'd trekked back into the sands. "Sunny, tell your brother. I don't like the idea of comms right now."

Hide took point and Sunstreaker relayed information while she stared at the spot silver had vanished from.

No smell.

No smell.

No smell.

Since when did a creature have no scent? When they wanted to hide important details.

"She's not alone."

Ironhide looked down, "Hmm?"

"She has no smell. You all smell like yourselves but she doesn't, like she masked it."

"Good catch." Sunstreaker said.

Cypress nodded offhandedly and stormed the bond, ~ Guys, there's a another Preda. ~

~ Description? ~ Jazz asked quickly.

~ Silvery, femme Preda-wolf. ~

There was a pause.

~ Don't think she's alone, huh? ~

No.

~ Watch yourself. ~ Prowl said.

Ironhide cut any more exploration short. Ten kliks out from the ridge she'd rolled down, Cypress barely kept herself from collapsing. She transformed, shaking more purplish grit out of her spines.

Ironhide was watching her closely.

"Perimeter's clear for now. The other squad is hunting for energon, we've got time for target practice."

He nodded to three different ranged weapons. A pistol, a very alien shotgun, and an obscenely large blaster. "Pick one."

As to be expected, Cypress knew jack-all about alien guns. She picked the least complicated and, considering their recent encounter, most damaging. The smaller folding shot gun.

"That is now your new best friend. Treat it as loaded. Point it in a safe direction. You will keep digits off the trigger until you're prepared to shoot. Do not keep it loaded, empty until ready to use on missions. Do not point it at what you do not intent to destroy. Take stock of the target and its surroundings."

'Hide unfurled his own onboard weaponry in his left arm as another example.

"You will learn its inner workings until you know it as well as your previous form. You will learn the proper ammunition rounds. Assure the barrel is clear before use. Do not look down the barrel. If there is a failure to discharge, carefully assess. Do not rely only on the weapon's safety. Be aware of the terrain so that you do not trip and blow holes into you or your team."

He faced her.

"This cycle we will be practicing with each here."

Cypress suppressed a wince. She might have vaguely remembered shooting lessons, but she knew the after effects it had on a body.

The pistol didn't hurt.

The shotgun she liked.

The blaster's kickback jarred her arms worse than Marci's sabot launcher.

Her aim still left much to be desired, so they kept up practice far past her limbs aching. Sunstreaker seemed to be alternating between scouting, sparring against an unseen opponent, and circuiting back to join in negging every joor.

She watched in dismay as bolt of energy sailed past the boulder she'd been aiming for and smacked into the sands.

"Wow," Sunstreaker gaped, "Missed that one by a mile."

"I'm trying!"

"To get yourself killed? Great job. Keep it up."

"And it will be everyone here if the yapping keeps up." Ironhide leaned back and looked her over. "Got anyone you hate? And I mean the nastiest, blackest type of hate you can muster."

She looked at the ground and drew on the strings of fear in her lines. Amid a few memories she wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole, there was one thing.

Cypress took aim again. "It's a grizzly. It's a grizzly. It's a grizzly."

She fired and still missed.

Eventually, Ironhide seemed to be satisfied this was as good as they were getting for the cycle.

"Pack up, we're looking for fuel."

She attached her weapon of choice to the back of her frame with some difficulty, but without complaint.

Sunstreaker resumed sweeping with his energon detector. Her right leg jittered stiffly.

"Tired?"

Immensely but that was always a trick question.

Cypress frowned, "I can manage."

"You had better." He intoned, "Only gets worse from here."

She watched the patterns her peds made in the sands as she walked, jerking when she realized she was being watched.

Instead, Cypress looked to her substitute teacher.

"Forgetting something?"

"Optics and audios open…"

She flicked her audials high. More details than she knew what to do with flooded in. "We're alone for now. Except for that thing."

The thing in question being a three-eyed bird, ten-foot-tall bird.

"What is that?"

It chirred in their general direction and moved to stand in the shadows they cast.

"I'd be worried I were organic. Look at those feet…" A hooked talon jutted out of each toe, not to mention its beak.

They walked, the bird followed, occasionally weaving between their legs as it chased the shade they cast.

"Hi!"

The bird screeched and allowed her to pet it.

"Kid."

"We're still alone, minus this guy."

"Stop playing with the buzzard." Sunstreaker hissed.

Cypress ducked alongside the terror-bird. "You're not a buzzard, are you?"

It shrieked.

"Got a signal."

The bird chirruped and sat as Ironhide pulled out the strangest device she'd seen. A 3D-like cube sank into the ground, excavating sand and bedrock.

Three dumps later, they could just catch a glimmer of blue.

Energon really was a naturally occurring element.

Underneath one servo the bird hissed and Cypress resumed patting its feathered dome. "It's okay."

It hissed louder; beady gaze directed beyond their group.

Sunstreaker muttered something to 'Hide, then, "Your buzzard's getting angry."

"Its not a—" her audios honed in, past the excavation noises, Hide's ragged ventilation pattern, a lizard, engines closing in…

"Ironhide, someone's coming."

"Direction?"

"That way—9 o'clock?"

He looked, frowned, and reset something in his optics. The warrior's frame went rigid just as the whining got louder.

"Seekers, incoming!"

They ducked into a low ditch, followed by Sunny enraged mass.

"What are they doing here, the planet is empty!" he hissed.

"Who knows?" Ironhide muttered, "Lay low."

Once or twice Cypress heard about Seekers. The best she could piece together was that it was a type of 'former with a jet mode and they were the worst kind of nuisance.

She juggled the fortunately quiet bird to free a servo and tapped Sunstreaker, "What's a Seeker?"

He grew a feral smirk like he was getting some twisted prize but, she got an actual answer. "The prettiest, hardest target practice you ever want to see." He nodded above to the orange skies.

The engines screamed closer, getting to near unbearable levels before three streaks shot over in wide formation. Cypress huddled down, watching three sleek metal prisms cut through the atmosphere.

Despite the ugly purple emblems on the underside of their wings, she got the irrepressible urge to climb back up to watch them. But she didn't, because she liked not being full of bullet holes.

Decepticons...the genuine type…

'Hide held up a digit.

There was a light hum. A fourth trailing behind.

It passed too, then arced high into the air, revealing its orange topside.

Cypress watched with rapt attention as it tilted to its right and dropped like a stone, before completely breaking apart.

A blur of a creature glided back over their hideout, cruising far lower. It landed with a crunch of sandy gravel and soft snuffling noises.

Cypress sat up ramrod straight.

It knew.

It smelled her.

Realization had dawned on Sunstreaker already. If looks could kill, he would have stabbed her to death by now.

Ironhide was quietly arming one cannon, preparing to blow the delicate flier sky high and probably bring the rest of the Seekers back with fire.

He started in a whisper, "Its those three, great… If this is going to work, we'll have to take them by surprise." Ironhide cast her what he probably thought was an empathetic look. "Do you trust me?"

"No."

"Go up. Play cute, lead that one off."

"NO."

Cypress ignored the second glare.

"Are you refusing orders?"

"YES."

"You'll be fine, scout Cons are dumb. We're right behind you." Sunny goaded, enjoying this situation a little too much.

" .NO."

Ironhide waved a servo. "It's only another beast-mode. I'm not asking again."

Her frame was going taunt.

"But—"

"Go!"

Cypress sank back into herself, helm shaking furiously. "I CAN'T! THEY KILL PEOPLE!"

Sunstreaker had had enough. He reached over with one servo despite muted protest, snatching her chin and pulling her close. The cold barrel of a pistol dug right into her temple.

"And so do we. Get moving, runt."

In a blind panic to get away, she clawed her way out of the ditch, her own rifle forgotten at her back and the bird clutched to her chest.

What sat on the ground was something out of a nightmare. A hunched felid creature, like a big cat with very flexible metal joining the ankles.

Cold, white optics locked on her and the frame reformed into a flier several heads taller than she. A set of wings unfolded to double in size, and very painful looking electrical currents arced over an aggressively orange and blue frame. Notably the raptor-like talons that ended each digit.

"In the name of the Decepticon Empire, I order you to drop your—weapon." The 'Con canted her helm at the bird.

"Were you planning on eating that?"

"No?"

A sigh, "Unholster your weapon and drop it."

"Not an option—"

A force knocked her off her peds and prickles of electricity yanked her clean into the air by a leg, she and the bird screaming all the way.

Somewhere in between the ground and open air, she sent out a burst of pure unadulterated panic into the bond—and got three equally as startled responses.

The upside-down Decepticon plucked the rifle off of her back with ease, tossing it away. With something that resembled a fiber-optic.

"Why do you make it so hard on yourself? Disarming is beneficial for us both."

"Said the right-side-up electricity femme!"

She chuckled, swinging her back and forth. "You're a weird one. Prey for a companion. An unfinished energon dig. Where are your friends?"

"I'm alone. Just me and Terri."

"Terri" hissed in general displeasure.

A flash of silver walked up, narrow faceplate neutral, "Voltage! Good you've met, saves me the trouble."

Cypress went numb.

The silver wolf.

The flyer adjusted her grip, "She said she's alone. What do you think, Cieve?"

"I think it's a lie."

With one hard yank, the wolf Preda sent her spinning clockwise and back, tangling the painful lines around her caught leg.

"You reek of vehicle modes, multiple vehicle modes, and no self-respecting Preda excavates only…" Cieve brought her closer, "You're a PET! I have heard of Predas like you but never seen one in real life!"

"I am not!" Cypress lashed out, not with claws but EM.

Instead of slamming her to the ground, the Seeker paused, EM field searching. "You—"

Something about the sudden change in her disposition had Cieve stopping and Cypress confused.

Voltage sat her down still restrained, peds first, "The last time I saw you, your eyes weren't open yet."

"Excuse me?" But she was ignored.

"You're sure?" Cieve turned, answering some unheard statement.

"Never been more so."

"Kinda small, something happened. There should have been a codeword—"

~ Cyps? Got word from Sides. We're coming. ~ Bee sent.

Cypress watched their conversation fluctuate, waiting for the chance to run. ~ Good. I don't think I like Seekers… ~

~ You and me both. ~

Voltage's wings twitched and she draped a crushing arm over her, "So you're alone? Then you could do with some company! I'd like for you to tell that lovely story to my commanding officers."

Cypress' tanks sank as the Seeker's engines circled back.

She stood frozen as the three vehicles from before dropped from the skies.

The lead Seeker stepped forward, "What is it, you two?"

"We found a scout. Thought you might like to check up on her." Cieve said.

Voltage resecured her, the electrified tendrils now wrapped around her arms and flush behind her back.

Terri surprisingly stayed put, camping out by her peds.

Sharp optics cut to her arm band then to her face. "Is there a reason you're stalking my trine and subordinates?"

This mech—was worse than Sunny—because her audios felt like they were bleeding and she couldn't rub them. No one said anything about Cons being capable of audio torture.

"She harassed me first. I just want to eat. Can I go—"

"Silence!"

Terri hissed louder.

The purple one of the trio looked down, "What is that?"

"I dunno, found it walking arou—"

A set of sharpened digits closed around her throat.

"The next words from your mouth will be where you are from and where your ship is."

Cypress clenched her fangs and nodded softly. She twitched her tail ever-so slightly and warning zap passed through her frame.

"Sir?"

"What?" the choker snapped.

"She venomous." Voltage supplied.

"You freaking snitch—" a clench cut her off.

"Oh?"

Cypress got picked up yet again, this time by the neck.

"Last chance."

She went quiet.

"Suit yourself. Predas, doesn't your pack need a grunt?"

"Not particularly," the Cieve added, "Carnivac may be open to it."

"If not, Barricade would enjoy a living target dummy." The Seeker finished.

The blue one, that had been quiet up until now, winced.

The purple one finally let his tapping servo get the better of him, "So are we going to ignore the two mechs in the ditch, or no?"

Cypress lifted a ped and raked her claws down the head Seeker's arm. It only got her backhanded for her trouble but there was a satisfying flush of energon.

The lead seeker sneered at his wound but shook it off. "Thundercracker, Voltage, Skywarp, let's go. Cieve?"

"On it. Come on, pet."

Cypress transformed before she could get a hold of her and bared her fangs.

"A fighter, then!"

Suddenly, she realized just why vehi-modes were wary of Predacons.

Cieve didn't hesitate, she barreled her over and latched onto her throat with a swiftness she'd never seen coming.

She kicked out in a blind panic, trying to claw her underbelly. The older femme was experienced enough to stand to one side to more efficiently maul her. With both forepaws, she raked at her uneven, spiked plating getting zero purchase. Something burst beneath her throat plating with a wet pop.

Cypress drove her dew claws into the side of her attackers glossa.

In the time Cieve was yelping and clawing at her snout, Cypress staggered back up.

There was shooting. Explosion impacts of those awful, purple grains.

But it wasn't dusty, there was a 20/20 view of the whole area. The rest of the team had made it. It didn't seem to matter; four Seekers was more than enough to heckle them. They spilt apart and rejoined and unleased strafing laser-fire. Going back into the ditch or the excavation hole was out of the question. There was no viable cover.

Cypress staggered from side to side then around in a circle. The goal seemed to be to shoot down the Seekers.

She spotted her gun—located right behind a charging wall of blue and white wolf-mode.

Instinct took over, she broke and ran.

Apparently recovered, Cieve matched her panicked sprint with a taunt. "Where are you going? Come back!"

Cypress spun around sending spines in all sorts of directions. It didn't do any good. She kept running, tail tucked beneath her belly. Sparring with Prowl had one advantage, she clearly heard the last combatant's engine coming.

With a quick adjustment she avoided the incoming vehicle mode, only to get her shoulder ripped out of socket by the second wolf's shoulder check.

This time when Cypress hit the ground, she didn't get back up.

The new wolf slid to a halt above her and huffed, "About time."

"I can't believe they screwed up this badly, look at this mess! A youngling?"

Slowly, Cypress realized Cieve didn't mean the skirmish behind them.

The vehicle mode transformed, black and white plating rearranging into a spiky youngling with four optics. "What's wrong with younglings?"

"Nothing, 'Cade."

This new mechling shrugged, "Aren't we supposed to dispatch the Autobots?"

"Not today, Starscream's orders. Something about old business?"

Cypress quietly attempted to struggle back up, to which a paw forced her back down. "Believe me, pet. You'll want to stay there."

There was a pool of oddly colored energon expanding from her throat. "I just—want to go home."

Cieve pressed far too close into her personal space, "And I'd like you to disappear."

"I didn't even do anything to you!"

"Don't have to. Your kind make me sick. Cozying up to Autobots, as if that makes you any better than an actual pet."

She managed to stand on three legs, her right front one dangling uselessly. "So, you'll bully me into coming with? I just got to space. The folks I'm traveling with were there when my pack died; you all weren't. I'm more inclined to side with the ones that aren't being raging afts."

There was no angry snap or blow, but laughter from the three.

Cieve finally huffed, smile wide and unfriendly. "With processing like that, maybe you should have followed your 'old pack' as you call them, it would clean the bloodlines."

Cypress growled.

"You can't fight. Can't shoot. You're a disgrace. About as a believable Predacon as your friend over there."

In fact, there was another felid Preda, complete with suspicious doorwings, lying flat against the sands trying to sneak up on them. If there were more cover it may have worked. She appreciated the effort.

Bumblebee reverted in an angry rush of parts.

The silver menace snorted, "Your owner's here."

"SHUT. UP." Bumblebee snapped, "Does that translate? You don't know anything."

None of the three made a move to stop him from approaching. The wolf mech stepped back to transform, a servo resting on the hilt of a blade at his back. Cieve did the same, but with a scythe. Something dark started to cloud all four of the other vehicle mode's optics.

"Are you okay?"

Against her better judgement she transformed to a cascade of ugly, red HUD alerts.

She managed to guide her right arm into a stiff position that didn't have her seeing stars. "Never better."

Bee's optics whirred in on themselves. "Hey, look at me. Look at me— Your neck!"

"Worse than it looks, doorwinger." Cieve butted in, grin somehow still growing wider.

It was beyond unnerving.

Was that what Rilo looked like to everyone else?

Was that what she looked like?

Bumblebee walked them backwards, her good side pressed into his.

"I don't believe it… It just may be the other way around! Your doxy is vehicle mode, worst of all an Autobot. Frankly, I'm surprised they let a hybrid live."

Cypress finally halted, "Lady, you're the ones harassing us for no other reason than you're getting some sick pleasure out of it. Don't insult my friend."

"Cy, its fine."

"No, it's not. Beast-mode or no, she can't talk to you like that."

"Seeing as we could gut you right here, I'll speak to either of you anyway I please. Now, tell your pleasure drone to be quiet or I'll force him."

The other wolf seemed to be growing tired. He fussed with the side of his helm, "Enough. We're being recalled."

"Snarl, we'll go when I'm done assessing what trash the Dread decided to keep online," she spat with a genuine venom that hadn't been there before. That smile morphed into a sneer and she closed in. "I know it's a deep cover, but you shouldn't be this stupid. You really don't know anything, do you?"

Cypress cast a worried glance to an increasingly offput vehicle-mode 'Con and Snarl's narrowed glare directed at her opponent.

"Cieve." Snarl rumbled.

"We're the same rank. I'll Go. When. I'm. Done."

Orange optics bored into hers. "I know plenty…and I have my senses about me. Do you know what I see? An Autobot horde's frag pet and a hybrid with a Predacon fetish."

Cypress wasn't exactly sure how, but there was a flash of blue and Cieve was missing a section of audial.

It took the Earthling a moment to realize that was her servo and Cieve's audial was crumpled in her good servo.

Snarl caught the raging femme before she could attack her. Meanwhile, the other vehicle mode seemed to be debating on who to shoot.

The wolf mech cast a slightly amused look at them, "For some reason, there are orders not to kill you. Orders can always be retracted. Go."

They limped away after Cypress dropped the sparking body part.

Her arm was sharpening with a hard pulsating sensation of twisted circuitry with every step.

"Hey, Bee, could you?"

Black servos seized the area and had it rotated back with a swift pop before she could yell.

"Everything green?"

"Yeah. OWWW. A warning next time?"

"Just makes it worse."

She rotated it, refined feeling flooding back. Then she noticed the extra black on his doorwings in the form of scorch marks. "They shot your poor wings!"

"It's fine!"

That was a very bold lie. Cypress frowned and jabbed a digit into a rough-looking gouge. He stifled a wince.

"Fine, huh?"

He kept walking; her good arm held in a vice lock. "I'll stop when we get out of range of the idiot trio."

"Speaking of trios…how bad is everyone?"

"Scorches, burns, bullet holes; we're fine. No casualties." He switched to a different form of communication.

~ I thought you were hurt—well—dead hurt. ~

~ Too intense? ~

~ Well, that's what the bonds for. ~

Three forms trailed them loosely, one of them muttering something dark.

~ Did you notice anything strange back there? ~

~ You kidding me? None of this seems right. Decepticons calling ceasefires? ~

~ The jets are still there?! ~

~ They're having a stand-off, Optimus and Screamer used to work together. What's up with your friends? ~

She rubbed her throat, ~ I think the Predas think I'm someone else. ~

~ Probably nothing… ~

~ When was the last time anything was 'just nothing'? ~

~ Yeah, but it's no point in stressing out. It is what it is. ~

That was put into question when the first thing she could hear was a very loud: "Pet!"

Cypress avoided optic contact with the flier, who had decided now was the best time to cross faction lines.

Voltage leaned into the space between them, made more imposing by a massive flier on their side. As in, taller than Optimus, blotting out the sun, type massive.

And the Seeker wanted to talk now of all times.

Voltage offered a grin tempered with concern. "So, you've properly met Cieve?"

"Stop talking to me, you crazy flier!" She ducked among her chosen team, working her way to Ratchet who was busy patching up Ironhide.

"Come back, I just want to talk!"

Cypress flipped her off and promptly remembered Prowl was standing right next to her after a cuff to the helm.

~ That's enough for today. Lay low. ~

She took the quick sweeping scan from Ratchet in stride. He motioned her over without looking up.

Ironhide was kneeling, looking mildly uncomfortable at having Ratchet field-patching him, "What happened to you?"

"What" meaning the congealed collar of venom and energon smeared around her throat. "Wolves."
Ironhide gestured to the smoking chunk taken out of his side, "Seekers." His sharp blue optics cut to her, "You ran."
And just like that all the fuel in her lines seemed to be concentrating around her spark.

"Yes, sir."

"Got a good excuse for that one?"

"I lost my rifle and there was a Preda charging me."

"That a no then. Now you see why you stay with the team."

She caught the lost weapon hefted at her.

"Don't let it happen again."

"Maybe your frame is trying to tell you something?!"

Cypress didn't bother to hide a wince. Voltage again. By now, the rest of the Predacon had arrived, along with that black and white vehi. So, it only bolstered the Seeker's bravery.

"I know you're not deaf. Turn around, emerald optics."

:: You got a stalker. :: Sideswipe commented blandly, then with a less murderous version of Sunny's previous expression added. :: Awesome. ::

:: I don't know her. ::

There was a wordless pulse over comms that in a succinct package said: "Quiet."

Cypress holstered the rifle and dug through her subspace to start on Sunstreaker's damages—who immediately took two big steps sideways. Jazz prodded her over bond, ~ Cover Bee's right. His sensors are roughed up. ~

From the stiffness of Prime's frame, he'd seen this Seeker before. "Starscream."

"Orion." He said simply. "Last I heard, you'd been lost in Cyberton's fall. Still playing Autobot, I see, and with some new faces…"

Cypress clenched her rifle tighter as optics landed on she and Bee.

The Seeker frowned, "Did you run across a sparkling center or something?"

There was some art to keeping his tone so thoroughly sarcastic it almost sounded interested.

Prime reloaded his shotgun.

"Ah, that's right. You've been out of the loop. There's been a stalemate for vorns."

"Then is there a reason you're firing on us?"

"Old habits die hard." He settled a servo on his hip, the other checking his blue stained talons. "What have you been up to on the rim of the quadrant?"

Seemingly knowing he wasn't getting an answer, the Seeker supplied his own, "Making your way home. I wouldn't expect a warm welcome. If you were to come to New Kaon, it may be different."

"We'll deal with it when we're closer. What's Megatron's SIC doing so far from the Decepticons?"

"Patrols. Ensuring that there is peace under Decepticon rule."

There was probably some subtext being imbued since Thundercracker's right wing was smoking.

"Let me be the first to welcome you back." Starscream aimed a wrist mounted weapon and blew up their energon vein, and left with his trine. Snarl led the Predas off.

There was a quiet hiss. Cypress looked down to find Terri nestled in Prowl's shadow, preening away as if there hadn't been a death match here minutes earlier.

Optimus sighed, "Indeed. Everyone okay to travel?"

Ironhide rose, "We got a choice? Let's get out of here."

They left at a slow clip, but Cypress didn't bother keeping pace this time.

The debriefing in the med bay was painful, detailing the exact amount of idiocy she'd displayed running away. She kept her optics focused on the floor as Sunny recounted his version of events. Rinse and repeat.

No energon recovered, only injuries sustained.

The meeting broke up just as quickly and she shuffled around cleaning the med bay.

It took Prowl tapping her on the shoulder to finally break her trance, "Come here."

"What did I do wrong this time?"

"Your throat looks horrible"

"Its fine. Medics get repaired last."

"I know, I just finished Ratchet. Sink or you're doing suicide runs."

She finally dragged herself over and jammed her helm into the basin. "You promise?"

"Not funny. Let me know if your energon pressure starts dropping."

Cypress watched thick globs of congealed energon fall away and get sucked into the drain.

Prowl was halfway through when he finally used what he thought was a joking tone, "No comebacks? I'm really not worth your time?"

"Not this cycle." She rubbed at the gouges encircling her neck and let Prowl weld them shut.

"Don't feel too bad. You survived; one can only improve from there."

"Like not letting the enemy have your gun." Jazz chirped good naturedly on his way out.

She slouched into miserable knot.

An awkward servo patted her own, "There's always next time."

Prowl had been almost pleasant to be around.

That should have been warning enough.

Jazz intercepted her on the way out of med bay with a different vibe to his EM. One that twisted her insides.

"About that slip up…" He dug around in his subspace and Cypress resigned herself to whatever came next. The tape from earlier, magnetic straps, and heavy plastic rifle.

"Turn 'round."

A few well-placed strips later, he patted the rifle. "You get to wear it for the next two mega-cycles!"

"How am I supposed to transform?"

"It'll move with ya."

"What about the tape?"

"Sounds like a personal problem." He continued, upbeat as ever. "You won't forget your gun next time."

"So, no running laps?"

"You want to?"

"No, sir."

"Catching on…but drop the sir. I aint that old."

~o~o~o~o~o~

Now safe, tucked away with the rest of her pack, Voltage had time to reflect and wasn't sure what she'd expected.

An embrace?

A grin?

Some nod of recognition?

Even the barest glimmer of acknowledgement….

Not fear.

Cieve and Barricade had spotted the Autobots long before. When it was clear there was a full team, Carnivac's orders were to observe as he conferred with their new co-leader.

Starscream wasn't so much interested in observing as in appearing and thoroughly wrecking their operation.

There was bad blood between he and the Autobot's alpha...and just the collective higher-ups in the Decepticon faction. Something about him being a traitor?

Carnivac's interest had been piqued by the mention of a beast-mode with one of the teams. It was their reasoning for leaving Eukaris, to observe.

It helped Starscream's decision that the Prime's right servo mech was in the splinter team as well.

Cieve leaked that it was another wolf, green-grey and blue. Because colors were a thing you needed to know when the greater majority of 'formers could see them. Not sending out pulses around those who didn't know was a challenge, but could be worked around easily enough.

When Voltage finally laid sensors on the femme recognition poured in with the data. This was Flicker…

She would have embraced her, if not for the fact she was on duty and under observation.

Cieve could tell. She could always tell. Despite knowing what would happen once they received her circuit-sibling, Cieve still didn't take to the idea of a pet as a packmate. And that was putting lightly. She still hadn't warmed up to Barricade.

Voltage expected the pet scout to get mauled. And she was. It earned her a missing audio and dozens of spines where they ought not be.

Voltage knelt, digits pressed to Cieve's temples in her alt, energy pulsing through her frame to numb pain and ease the poisoned spines out of it. When they worked their near enough to surface, Weirdwolf pulled them out with tweezers. One by painful one.

"Lousy pet." Cieve winced sharply.

"I know, I know."

"Didn't I tell you to let her be?" Snarl asked. He'd rammed into the femme and had somehow only come away with a few embedded in his shoulder. "And now look at you."

"She wasn't supposed to be competent. Freak accident."

Tic snorted, "You let a pup get the better of you?"

"Well, the Dread were supposed to give us fair warning."

Watching on, their Carnivac's gaze bored into Voltage. "The pet's a Spiner."

"Clearly." Cieve hissed quietly enough not to be overheard.

"Same color described by the Dread and a venom bearer. Am I missing anything?"

Voltage shook her helm as a negative, "No. Something must have happened with 'Nia. Only thing left is responding to bond."

Carnivac nodded, "Then I suggest you continue convincing your circuit-sibling of the correct side."

The sensation of her willingly going back to the same crew that had just as quickly elected to use her as bait ate at Voltage. Forgivable given the circumstances…even the welcoming reception…but not in the way some of their EMs resonated.

She had questions and tomorrow seemed like a good enough day to pay their ship a visit.

Abruptly, Starscream came trudging into their newly attained section of the Vengence. His arms were oozing corrupted energon.

"Do you have anything that passes for anti-venom? Whatever this is, its spreading."

Weirdwolf huffed, "It is, whatever it I've got."

The Seeker shook his helm at the confusing garble of words. "Just fix this."

Voltage hid a grin of pride, to which Cieve snorted.

"You'll regret this…"

"We'll see."

I lifted Ironhide's weaponry lecture from a Google search, its legit. I guess.