The war was over.

Truly, it was.

Everyone in the consulting room, except the sparkling, was completely aware and accepting of the cessation of hostilities. They had all embraced as much of civilian life as they could in a still ruined Cybertron.

So when Skywarp 'vopped' in, shouted and aimed his ion cannons at Mirage, everyone reacted in a calm measured fashion.

Hook dove for the door. Seeker hissy fits were not his concern.

Soundwave tucked Tempest safely away in his dock and took a defensive position behind the instruments trolley, locking down the consultation room and comming for backup. He didn't draw his gun, yet.

"No!" Thundercracker jumped to his feet, wings spread to shield Mirage. "No, it works!" He opened the trine-bond and was instantly hit with a wall of outrage and overcharge. "He can support Tempest. It'll be alright!"

"So bolt him to the wall next to the dispenser!" Skywarp didn't lower his arms. "You had no right to go behind our backs! That's treason, you fragger!"

"It's for Tempest." Thundercracker insisted. "This will help our sparkling, 'Warp. He'll get better. You'll be able to hold him." He implored. His trine-mate had been so looking forward to their bitlet. Skywarp had been disappointed he hadn't been the one to carry. "You won't need to talk to Mirage. He'll stay in my quarters."

"I bet he will." The black jet hissed, swinging his ion cannons to get a clear shot at the Autobot. His targeting system was fuzzy. He couldn't get a lock-on. "You must think I'm stupid. I felt him in the bond. We both did. You've hooked into some shareware and we've all got to feel it." He shot the spotlight above the exam table. It spat sparks but TC didn't move. "I'm gonna shoot him then I'm gonna shoot you 'til the stupid falls out then I'm gonna find Knock Out."

"And shoot him too?" The blue jet slowly edged towards his mate.

"Only if he doesn't fix the bitlet." Skywarp growled, amping up his guns. 'Cause he got 'em and he'd make Knock Out make Tempest better like a proper doctor. "You want Autoscum to help so bad, we go grab one of their medics. Yeah." He nodded. "That's a good plan. We'll get the Hatchet. He'll do the stuff."

"He won't help if you've killed Mirage." Thundercracker didn't think his trine-mate was receiving any input from his logic unit but the more they talked, the more likely the engex would catch up. Skywarp was halfway to cratered. "Why don't we use him as a hostage? Then we can parley with the Autobots for access to their medical database. All the data they didn't hand over."

"Sneaky bumper-humpers." Skywarp slurred. A warning popped up on his HUD. He ignored it. "Still gonna shoot the grounder, TC. You can't have him. It's not right." He shook his helm and got another warning. He ignored that one too. "You're just doing this 'cause you feel all guilty for making a defective bit."

In the taut silence, Soundwave shot Skywarp.

A tidy half-power blast between the wings below the main strut for maximum disabling effect.

The Seeker folded like tinfoil.

"He's overcharged." Mirage felt he had to contextualise why a sire would use that term about their own creation. There were words and there were fighting words. And there were words like 'Disposable' or 'Defective' that had so much baggage you didn't use them unless you wanted someone recycled.

"I know." Thundercracker stood there. Of course Skywarp didn't mean it. Not really. Not about his own sparkling. It was only because they'd been so worried and under so much stress. The war had barely ended. Everyone had a lot to defrag.

"Skywarp will recover in the brig." Soundwave unlocked the door and notified security. He also, reluctantly, opened his dock to extract Tempest, who whirred as his little fans spun uncertainly. "Autobot will mind sparkling." The Host ordered before transferring the bitty. "Autobot will comply with parole conditions."

"Of course." Mirage cuddled Tempest against his chest and modulated his field to be calm. That he could fake easily. Maintaining the image of an unruffled aristocrat was old habit. The seekerling beeped then dropped into recharge exhausted by the excitement. The racer could feel the weak but hungry pull of the tiny spark. There was no innate connection between them nor between him and the bitlet's Carrier despite Skywarp's allegation. No bond except convenience.

"Let's go home." The Seeker stepped around his unconscious trine-mate to escort his newly-minted secondary conjunx back to their apartment. He could fret about this later. One launch at a time. He needed to get the 'Bot and Tempest settled.

Mirage and Thundercracker didn't talk much on the transport. They tripped over each other in the airlock trying to move by precedence; Iaconian a pace behind, Vosian oblique. Some shuffling happened, then they walked side-by-side with the Seeker's wing behind to cover his secondary's back.

"We'll compare etiquette tomorrow." Thundercracker anticipated having the rules of conduct sorted between them would help the fresh code mesh. He didn't want arm candy. He'd show the Autobot around so everyone knew there was a claim. That way if Mirage wanted to go out, he wouldn't be harassed.

The security panel beside the door flashed red. Thundercracker touched it again. Red. He bit back a curse, not wanting to deal with maintenance. He put his Ident code in manually. Red then the panel went dark as the system locked him out.

Thundercracker fielded an irritated query from the transport pilot about the delay. The airlock conduit was a luxury his trine paid for to keep the atmospheric dust out of their hab. It wouldn't retract with them still in it. Retracing their steps, they reentered the transport, the pilot uncoupled from the apartment entrance, and Mirage, Tempest, and Thundercracker stepped out into the gritty Cybertronian air.

To see crates stacked in front of the building with the blue jet's designation spray-painted on them. Someone had made a template and used ubiquitous Decepticon purple so there was no doubt the cargo belonged to Thundercracker.

Because sabotage taught harsh lessons, both of them scanned the containers before the Seeker opened one. His datapads, tossed in haphazardly with cushions and polishing cloths. He checked the others. All of his belongings down to the last stylus.

"I'm not dealing with this now." Thundercracker replaced the last lid. He supposed he should be grateful Starscream hadn't set everything alight. "Are your comms up?"

Mirage accessed his communication array, finding to his pleasure that he could. The relief was tempered by the governor program that required his sponsor's assent for all but emergency transmissions. Thundercracker and the parole board also received a log of all his calls. He sent a ping to the Seeker, who replied with blanket permissions as well as a subsidiary account for the online social hub.

"See if there's an Autobot offshift willing to do some light freight work. I can pay in shanix or energon." There weren't that many hauler alts on Cybertron who weren't 'Bots. Thundercracker was not in the mood to wheedle a favour from a busy Constructicon and he didn't Motormaster anywhere near Tempest.

Mirage searched the hub, creatively named 'the Hub', quickly finding the parolee forum. No one had a full account yet. They were all listed under their sponsor or the Planetary Reconstruction Authority. There didn't seem to be too much blatant oversight intruding in the chat other than security reminders from Soundwave or automated infraction notices. He found the 'Job' section easily.

Hoist trundled up a few breem later. The maintenance engineer had come to Cybertron with his conjunx and had been paroled as quickly. However, unlike the buildings of their planet for Grapple, the citizens of their planet could refuse the services of an Autobot. Like he had posted on the forum, his shifts were full but he was rarely called in after-hours leaving him rotating his servos with nothing to do.

"Hello, Mirage." The tow truck greeted his comrade pleasantly after he had transformed into root-mode. "Thundercracker." He added, politely enough. Looking off in the direction of Alpha Centauri, he made a careful request. "May I interact with the sparkling?"

"He's recharging." The Seeker didn't quite hiss. After a moment to compose himself, he vented slowly. The Autobots waited. "You may. Don't wake him."

"Thank you." Hoist padded as quietly as his stocky frame allowed up to the itty bitty cutie, trying not to coo audibly. "Everyone at the hospital heard there was an unfurling. No one got a peek. Look at their perfect little wings!"

"We need to get my things to the barracks." Thundercracker interrupted, not quickly. He could stand to see his sparkling adored. Tempest stirred somewhat at the grounder's proximity though not nearly as much as he would've without Mirage's spark modulating his. Relief prompted the Seeker to be civil. "I'd like to get Tempest out of the dust."

"Of course." Hoist pulled his towing dolly out of subspace, loaded up and transformed. He knew the way. Thundercracker flew ahead. Without the sparkling. The engineer had to ask. "Are you alright?"

"Thus far." Mirage drove sedately alongside the green truck. They hadn't been close friends on Earth. Neither Hoist nor Grapple had ever offered him insult so Mirage considered he could be sociable now, aware he would have to vouch for every mech he brought into his conjunx's social circle. "This is trine drama."

"I can see that." He could see a lot. "There are Welfare Officers. They do their jobs, it's not just fumes. If you need to make a complaint."

"Thank you." The spy meant it. However, he had other ways to resolve conflict. One of which was well buckled in drooling on his upholstery.