A Race Through the Night

Chapter 6

Urgency


So, I know it's not Friday... Technically. But I'm sure it's Friday in some other part of the world, so that counts right? Anyhow, here's your next chapter of RTN. As always, I hope all my beloved readers enjoy reading this chapter and even more so, I hope you'll drop me a review to share your thoughts! Honestly, your reviews mean a lot to me, and the muses tend be less insistent without them. Reviews or no, this story will continue, but they would be most certainly appreciated motivation!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Transformers.

Review Responses: To enmused: Thanks sis, I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far, and yes, Swindle is incorrigible when it comes to business. Like he said, he never jokes about money. And yes, I am quite excited for the upcoming chapters! No spoilers, though, you'll just have to wait and see...


"What in the name of the Allspark do you mean you're wanted by the DJD?!"

She cringed for the millionth time that morning, her armor firmly pinned down to her sleek frame, her large crimson optics wide in a desperate, silent plea for him to understand. Not that he had any reason too, nor should she have had any reason to hope that he would.

All her safe havens went this way.

They claimed generosity and they swore to protect her, and to leave her free until she told them who she was afraid of. At long last they would learn - one way or another - that she'd attracted the attention of the big, bad DJD, and then all of their promises would melt away in a moment of horrified terror. And then, in the end, she would find herself exactly where she was now.

Behind bars.

Metaphorically at the very least, since most bots in their right minds didn't want to contain her; they merely wanted her gone and very, very, very far away from them. Today however, was a slight deviation from the norm.

Today she was, metaphorically and literally, imprisoned.

"I mean the Decepticon Justice Division? Why didn't you tell me? You could have gotten me killed! In unnaturally excruciating innovative new ways! What in the galaxy possessed you to make you think I'd be okay with that?!"

She pressed herself a little tighter into the corner of the floor of the brig that she had tucked herself into, making herself look as small as possible, whispering, "This is why I didn't tell you."

"What? What are you muttering about, looking all pitiful in your little corner?" Blurr snapped, the angry glare on his face somehow managing to look even angrier, though she could see in his optics that he wasn't completely unaffected by her 'pitiful' appearance.

"I said: this is why I didn't tell you." Nightracer repeated, her quiet voice only raised enough for him to be certain to hear. "Because this always happens when bots take me in. Play by play, every time. Friendly bot takes me in, finds out about the DJD, and freaks out."

"I'm not freaking out!"The mech bellowed, slamming his fist into the force-field keeping her in, making it spray sparks towards her. "What on Cybertron gave you that idea?!" He straightened up, puffing out his chest and playing up a sarcastically grandiose tone, "No, I'm completely and totally, absolutely the calmest bot in history, because it's not like we're not both about to be stabbed and eviscerated and smelted and electrocuted and shredded and mutilated and chewed on and blasted and forced to eat our own processor modules until we get sung to death by the most Decepticon-y Decepticon in the history of Decepticons!"

"Blurr..."

"Don't 'Blurr' me! You don't even know me!" The mech nearly shrieked, beginning to gain a minutely hysterical glint to his optics.

She vented deeply, averting her gaze sadly, muting whatever it was she had planned to say, brushing a clawed hand over her blue helm. All the previous evening once they'd returned from their meeting with Swindle, Blurr had been dead silent, sitting perfectly still on the couch in the rec room, not even twitching.

Worried about him, she'd stayed in the rec room with him for the whole first night cycle, trying to get him to fuel, or twitch, or do something. She'd begged, ordered, nagged. She even tried moving every single thing in the rec room so that it was just wrong in such a way that it would have driven him positively mad any other time.

In the end, she'd given up on trying to coax her captor out of his seeming trance and went to berth. Now it was about 0340 and he had been yelling at her for nearly a groon after having burst into her room and woken her up to stare up the barrel of his gun.

If things went the way they always did - and she had no delusions that they could go otherwise - Blurr would soon lower the charged energy field, knock her out, and she would wake up in a joor or so and find herself on a transport to the Pits or some other such distant place.

"Please, stop yelling at me." The sniper pleaded quietly, locking her optics on his. "Just send me away, or start shooting at me or something, anything, just please stop yelling at me."

He froze mid-rant that she had only been half listening to. The Autobot blinked at her, genuinely confused by her statement. His face twisted into sympathy, bringing a low growl to her stressed engines. She needed to have left over an orn ago. She wasn't supposed to have let herself get comfortable, not even for a few rotations, because she didn't deserve to get settled. This was her fate: second best. Unwanted.

Ersatz.

"I don't need your short-lived, misplaced pity either." She sighed heavily, staring blankly at her servos, carefully focusing on focusing on nothing. "Just get it over with. Be gentle about knocking me out, if you don't mind. It's easier to start running again without a helm-ache."

"What are you even talking about?" Blurr demanded, his whole demeanor softening from rage to lost puzzlement.

She cocked her helm, shrugging at the obviousness of the whole situation, but now feeling a sliver of doubt sinking into her spark, in spite of her determination to not hope. "Well, experience says that you're gonna knock me out and ditch me someplace where the DJD won't trace it back to you," She explained matter-of-factly, "So, I'm asking you to be gentle about it, if you've got more of a spark than my previous 'friends'."

At his continued stare, the teal and charcoal femme shrugged again despondently, "Letting me get my things from the suite would be nice too. They're all I have left of the good times."

She picked at the worn-through armor of her left servos. The protoform beneath had healed, but she would have to get a new set of servo-plating somewhere, somehow. The main issue to deal with now would be getting away as soon as possible. She ought to have left before now. She'd grown attachments here. Weaknesses.

All she'd done was endanger Blurr in his invisible, excessively extravagant fortress. She was hazard, to be disposed of with all haste.

"Why would I send you away? If I was gonna do that, I might as well just kill you right here and now and save myself the hastle." At her horrified expression, the blue Autobot waved his hands quickly, his optics widening as he rushed to clarify, "Nonono, not that I'm saying that that's what I'm going to do, cause that would be cold-sparked murder, and I'm an Autobot, so that's not how we do things, and even if it were I wouldn't kill you!"

"Why? Because everyone does." Nightracer replied, wrapping her arms around herself. "Because they'll kill you if you don't. And, believe it or not, I don't actually want that to happen."

The force field came down with a muted fizzle, followed by a pop of energy discharging, and then Blurr trotted into the cell and leaned up against the wall, crossing his ankles casually.

"Well, in case you hadn't noticed yet, I'm not your average mech." He offered her a hand up, an apologetic smile lighting on his lips. "Sorry I was freaking out in the face of most certain death, because envisioning my own death can be stressful, as I'm sure you can imagine since you've been doing this for half a vorn."

She accepted the offered hand, not taking her optics off the floor. The femme rubbed her arm, glancing up at the mech with a distrusting frown, replying quietly, "I'll go get my things, and then you can show me out."

She rushed out of the brig, jogging straight to her quarters with no delay. Even if he was serious about not sending her away, she needed to leave. The Decepticon Justice Division didn't know anything about him yet, even though he knew about them. Besides, cloaked or not, they had to be nearby. They would find her, and anyone stupid enough to help her would suffer the same fate that she inevitably would.

Shoving through the revolving door to her quarters, Nightracer snatched down the two datapads of music along with the tri-colored lava lamp, stuffing them into her subspace. With a little more hastle, she unpinned the shimmering alloy blanket, carefully folding it up and tucking it away.

Pulling off Swindle's munitions heist would be substantially more difficult alone on one hand, but on the other hand, she would be able to move around with much more freedom without having a hyperactive Autobot partner to worry about.

Her frenzied motions came to a halt as she looked around the already primarily cleared out suite with a small smile. She would miss the berth most. She definitely wasn't looking forward to crashing out in waste disposals and grubby closets again.

She turned to the display of holo-images she'd posted on the broken vid-screen. Mumbling a little apology as she started taking down and stowing each picture one by one, the femme took a moment to examine each happy memory. This would probably be the last chance she'd get to look at them for awhile, what with having the DJD, her repairs, and Swindle to deal with. Because nothing could ever be easy for her.

Everything just always had to go to slag at the sight of her.

These photos were all she had left of before her life decided to blow up and fall to pieces all around her. Before the most despicable mech in the War told her she was his property, spawned in a tube for the sole purpose of terminating the sparks of others on the whim of higher-up. Before their happy little femme team split paths, or the Lord Protector killed their world, or she offed her commander in favor of saving the embodiments of their future. Before she was a wanted fugitve being pursued by professional sadists.

She slid the last photo into her subspace compartment and locked it with a flick of her wrist.

The femme stood at the front of the room with slumped shoulders, looking over everything one last time with a heavy ex-vent. Moving forward, moving on. Darkshine used to tell her that all the time, said it was the only way to accomplish anything in their war-torn lives.

So far, the black and silver jet's simple wisdom hadn't failed her.

Nightracer jerked away reflexively as a hand lighted on her shoulder, glaring at the blue mech for always being able to startle her so easily. Soon enough that wouldn't be a problem she'd have to worry about though, so she didn't mention it.

"You know you don't have to leave, right? Not that you have to stay either if you don't want to, I mean I don't really care either way..." Blurr paused for a moment, starting to pace behind her, gesturing as he spoke, "I mean, it doesn't bother me if you think I'm just too annoying to be around, cause a lot of bots think that, I just don't want you to think I'm going to kick you out or something, but I won't stop you if you do wanna leave. But it'd be cool if you'd stay, cause even if I do get this ship working, I won't be able to run it on my own, and the company'd be nice even if I could run it on my own, cause space is a big place and..."

The mech trailed off and appeared in front of her, crouching briefly to look at her down-turned face. When she looked up, he straightened, smiling at her hopefully, "Besides, I told you I'd get you a new t-cog, so you can stay until I make good on my word. Because I'm an Autobot and Autobots are bots of their word."

"It isn't safe." She replied adamantly, her engine growling in displeasure at the small part of her elated to have an excuse to stay a little longer. It would only be another orn. Another orn of a good berth to recharge on every night, Energon to refuel on whenever she wanted, and the company of a bot who, unlike most, didn't seem to want to kill her.

"If I know anything about anything, this ship is probably the safest place in the galaxy for someone like you." He countered, crossing his arms over his chest.

Her optics narrowed. This was new. Normally she was arguing to stay, not to leave. "The safest place for someone like me is alone and on the move. I refuse to watch bots die for no other reason than that they'd met me."

"Then I won't die, and if I do I'll do it someplace you can't see me."

At that, Nightracer burst out laughing, partially at the childlike simplicity of his proposed solution, and partially at the sheer impossibility of it. The sound was harsh. Cold and sparkless to a point that it almost scared her to know that such hopelessness could come out of her own vocalizers. The DJD would never be so kind as to terminate those who assisted her without forcing her to watch.

That wasn't how the Decepticon Justice Division worked.

No, they'd seat her in Kaon's grasp and they would torture him in front of her and in the very end they would ensure that he died in front of her in the most pointless, meaningless way possible before spending groons torturing her as well. Because putting her through all of that pain would be no fun at all to them if they couldn't break her will in the process.

Her lips curled up in a small smile as the femme forced herself to focus on the imperturbable stubbornness in Blurr's optics. "Fine, we get the gun, pay Swindle, repair me, and then I'll leave. And you won't try to stop me next time."

Two Joors Later

They stared up at the massive, blast-riddled capital building of Altihex, once the prized jewel of the sector. Now it stood rusted and charred, leaning precariously to the side from one of the many bombings it had proudly - or else doggedly - withstood.

"Just remember, walk like you own the place and don't talk to anyone unless spoken to. Altihexians have been through more than most in the War; they don't like strangers, and they definitely don't like bots like you, no offense." Nightracer said quietly, glancing at Blurr to make sure he was still following the last important set of advice before they went in. "You're too... bright for this part of the sector."

He nodded in response, his silence somewhat disturbing to her, yet very good for their mission. A comms request pinged on her heads-up display, and the teal and charcoal femme accepted it, glancing to the blue mech to confirm that he was ready.

/Okay then. Here goes nothing./ She sent, walking through the doors with determined steps, holding her frame straight and tight the way the higher-ups always did in Kaon.

She still wasn't entirely sure why the mech had insisted that she be in charge. But here she was. He had pretty much refused to do anything that might possibly be considered making a decision, leaving her few alternatives.

The bots inside sat huddled in corners or on furniture, glaring sidelong at the two newcomers, each bot looking as though they hadn't seen a medic or a wash-rack since the Great Exodus a few quartex ago. Nightracer fought against the urge to shudder as she felt the Altihexians all eyeing both her frame and Blurr's, their judgemental gazes being almost tangible as they swept over her.

They were too well-kept.

Their paint was new, their armor was in good repair, and they showed no signs of the ill effects of Energon deprivation. Three excellent reasons to set the inhabitants of the citadel on edge.

/Try to look more sullen?/ She asked/ordered over the comm link, noting that her mask had risen with the tension in the air, but not lowering it again. In this particular case, it would do her good.

/This is my sullen face! I don't think my face can get any sullen-er!/

She smirked behind the hated mask, marveling for a nanoklik that even his glyphs had a rushed slant, replying, /Just try./

The suspicious glares of the wounded and hungry bots never left them as captor and prisoner walked side by side towards the large door on the other side of the room. She couldn't help but feel like she was striding silently to her execution as tensions only rose with their every pede-fall.

Approaching the door, Nightracer inclined her helm respectfully to the large mech seated in front of it. He was a burly, foul-tempered looking jet, his right optic put out and covered up with a patch of crumpled scrap metal. The right wing was sliced off with a blade that must have been black cybertonium, because only a blade of that make would have cut so cleanly. It too was covered with a haphazardly bent and welded sheet of scrap.

"Excuse me, sir, could we get by?" She asked quietly, keeping her voice as polite and meek as possible, knowing that angering this sort of a mech would only mean more trouble than she was wont to resolve tidily.

"Ain't no bot 'round 'ere as answers t'tha." The mech grunted, not even bothering to look up at them. "Try't agin."

Blinking, she did as bidden, "Excuse me, could we get by?"

He let out a satisfied huff, but made no move to remove himself from the doorway. "Wha's a pair o' shiny pleasure-bots like you doin' up 'ere in Al'hex Central n'any case, eh?"

Blurr's engine growled indignantly, "Watch it, Rusty! Who're you calling pleasure-bots? Just 'cause I didn't pull half my frame out of the scrapyard doesn't-"

She stuck out an arm, restraining the blue racer before he could do something rash that would likely get them both killed here. The Autobot glanced down at her hand on his angrily heaving chest, before scowling and backing down. She waited until she could feel his battle protocols shutting down, then removed her hand, glad for once that no one could see the disgusted expression on her face. She wanted nothing more than to help Blurr teach the mech some manners, but now was not the time.

"We don't want to cause trouble, we just need to get by you." She said, only partially keeping a civil tone.

"Well, you pleasure-bots're just gonna have'ta find some other bot to bug, cause this one ain't gonna shift 'is aft outta yer way 'less you give'im a pretty slaggin' good reason."

Her engine rumbled at the repeated offensive jibe, her ruby optics narrowing as her patience drew thinner, her tone growing sickeningly sweet, "I have... friends in high places that you really don't want to get on the bad side of."

The teal and gray sniper leaned forward to whisper something only his audials could hear. Pulling away, she watched with a terrified sort of thrill as the mech's yellow optic widened in a fear rarely seen on such mechs. Hardly an astrosecond later, he'd scrambled away from the door, even giving her a small bow as he went.

"My 'pologies, miss, I din't mean no harm!"

Nightracer glanced at Blurr before hitting the control that made the doors hiss and slide open in front of them. She nodded to the rusted old fighter and went through to the next corridor, taking a huge vent of relief once the door hissed shut behind Blurr. Snapping the mask down as quickly as she could, and smiling brightly at feeling the air on her faceplates, the femme drew out the hand-held holo-projector map Swindle had given her for the purposes of the mission.

"Looks like we want to follow this corridor around the bend, take the elevator - should be first door on the right after the bend - and head up to level 7." She said quietly, showing Blurr the map to get his opinion.

"Yeah, something like that." He replied, staring back at the closed door they'd just come through instead of the map she was holding up. "What did you tell the poor mech? He looked like he'd just seen a nest of sparkeaters."

"I told him I'm a personal friend of Tarn's." She shrugged lightly, letting her armor fall back down from the aggressive tilt it had gained after the mech's pleasure-bot comment. "... Now that you mention it, poor mech probably won't get much recharge for a while."

"B-But you... you can't just tell people that!" Blurr spluttered, grinning widely nonetheless, following her down the corridor.

Nightracer grinned, shivering slightly as her nervousness gave way to smug excitement. She'd never actually, properly threatened a bot before. It felt kind of like in all those holovids, where the hero just walked up all confident and fearless, then smiled sweetly while basically telling bots to do as they say or get scrapped.

She hadn't expected it to work, which made it kind of awesome that it did. Her spark was still buzzing.

"I just did, didn't I?" She pointed out, clamping down a giggle in favor of swaggering confidently down the corridor.

Arriving at the desired elevator, the sniper punched the up arrow. This mission would be a breeze. After all, she simply had to casually bring up the big three letters, and bots would bow to her will. Easier than stealing Energon from a sparkling.

"I'll take the stairs, see you at the top, slow-poke!" The blue mech teased, laughing in his clear timbre and shooting off down the corridor in a streak of blues.

The elevator doors slid away with a cheerful chime, leaving a giant wall of living metal behind them, inches from her face-plates. Nightracer felt her life-En go icy and a convulsive shudder ran down her struts as she slowly looked up, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of the mech's face.

A terrified squeak escaped her lips and the femme scrambled back until her dorsal plating slammed into the opposite wall of the corridor. Her armor shrank down and pressed tightly against her protoform. Crimson optics wide, she glanced over to where Blurr had stood just moments before, biting her lip in distress.

The navy and white war-machine chuckled at her fear, grinning at her, "I take it my reputation has proceeded me. What brings you to this backwards citadel, clone?"

"L-Lord O-Overlord..." She stammered, bowing deeply before returning to her previous position. Her armor started trembling faintly as she realized the mech knew who she was. Apparently her creator's projects were more commonly published than she'd thought. "I-I c-came only to take the transmat to - to I-Iacon, s-sir."

"Oh, my dear femme, you needn't fear me. I have no intentions of killing you..." He laughed again, the spark-stopping sound sending a chill through her, "Yet."

/Blurr? Don't come to the elevator... Just go to the transmat room./ She commed quickly, forcing her optics to stay bright so as not to alert the Overlord to her actions. /And whatever you do, stay out of sight./

"Besides," He drawled, wrapping a massive, gun-laden arm over her shoulders and entering the elevator, "Level Seven - You're in luck, little clone, you'll have the privilege of being personally escorted by the only mech of my standing that would deign to even speak to such a lowly creature as yourself."

She repressed another shudder, visibly sagging in relief when he took his hand off her shoulders. She could practically feel the life-En from the thousands of bots those very hands had terminated. She replied quietly, "I truly am honored, my lord."

/Okay, what's wrong? Do you need help - never mind, you wouldn't tell me to hide if you needed help - what's going on?/

The elevator chimed loudly, causing the anxious femme to jump slightly in fright, exiting the elevator moments later and checking to make sure that Blurr wasn't around. The only reason this mech hadn't terminated her was the symbol on her chassis, and not even that would prevent him for long.

/Explain later./

Besides that, they needed desperately to get away from Overlord as quickly as possible, because the ex-Phase-Sixer had a unique spark signal strong enough to draw the DJD to them in a matter of groons. And wouldn't they just be thrilled to find two bots on the List, with an Autobot tag-along to top it off.

She had to go and start enjoying herself. And thinking that for once in her life, something could just go according to plan?

She was a fool to think that fate could shine so brightly on her.

"I thought you went to Garrus-9 last decavorn, after you refused when the Lord Protector chose you for Operation Six Phase?" Nightracer asked tentatively, trying not to cringe away as the gigantic mech measured his step to match hers as they headed towards the transmat room.

"Yes..." The growl of his engine rattled her frame, reverberating through the hall. He cleared his vents and rolled his shoulders, glowering down at her, "... I have found Garrus-9... intriguing, however I heard rumors of the ultimate weapon being housed somewhere in Iacon's depths. I came to test if its reputation be true."

"Oh."

The sniper felt her spark rate double, the pulse of energy within her beating against its chamber ferociously, as though it wanted to escape her frame and thereby the horrible offlining that was walking right next to her, emitting a signal that would summon even an more horrible offlining.

"What draws you to Iacon, clone?" Overlord questioned, watching her reaction closely.

She was so slagged.

Nightracer overrode the subconscious command that tried to start her fans whirring and her vents heaving to cool her rapidly panicking frame. Her spark pulse seemed so loud she was half afraid Overlord would hear it. Her fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly and her armor shrank down a little more, making her protoform mildly ache from the pressure.

The femme team always said she was a miserable liar.

He couldn't know that she was here for the same reason, and he definitely couldn't know that she had more intel on it than he did. Hopefully, he would attribute the added shaking of her voice to her overall fear of him, rather than her fear of being found out.

"I... I just wanted to get away... from here. Start fresh in the... the best city left." She stuttered quietly, averting her gaze in the hopes of simultaneously hiding her face and looking more convincing. She rubbed her elbow with one hand, just to keep her hands moving to hide how they shook.

They stepped into the transmat chamber, and once again Nightracer glanced around anxiously, taking comfort in seeing no sign of the blue racer. She waited until Overlord motioned her forward, then hurried up and tapped in the coordinates Swindle had given her.

Being just at the outer edge of the city, the supplied coordinates helped back her excuse for going to Iacon. She allowed herself a quick vent, turning to watch the transmat pad light up a bright magenta. A brief, almost nonexistent touch of another EM field brushed against hers and the femme whirled around to lock optics on a dark grate over a branch of the citadel building's ventilation system.

For less than an astrosecond there was a tiny glint of sapphire optics in the murky black of the shaft. She felt her engine hitch for a moment, earning her a suspicious glare from Overlord, which in turn made her jerk away, focusing on directing her attention anywhere but to where Blurr was hiding.

/Stay put, don't let yourself be seen./

/Don't let myself be seen by who? I'm sure I'm not that ugly, and I don't think I did or said anything to annoy you, so what's the problem?/ Blurr replied, tacking on a few glyphs expressing aggravated confusion and suspicion.

"You'll be dead before you reach the vent, if that's what you were thinking." Overlord commented casually, strolling towards her in a leisurely, yet menacing manner. "Or are you hiding something or someone in the shafts? Don't worry, I'm a fair mech: they'll be just as dead as you."

She fought back a grimace as a sharp clang echoed from the vent, shortly followed by a hissed string of insults too fast to be understood. She dug one fang into her lower lip, resisting the urge to glare at the vent. /Let me rephrase that: don't let yourself be seen or heard. The problem is Overlord, and now he knows you're-/

Her helm suddenly crashed into the wall and Nightracer's vocalizers let out a shocked squeak of fright, her large ruby optics widening. Overlord sneered at her, tightening his grip around her neck and lifting her several feet above the ground. Her pedes kicked out instinctively, landing a harsh blow to the mech's abdomen, but it only served to make him press her further into the wall until her resistance stopped and errors started flashing on her HUD, declaring a power shortage to her processors.

Warning: Resuming Energon flow to processors is advised. Processor functions will cease in 1.7392 klicks.

"Why are you going to Iacon and who is behind that vent!?" Overlord roared in her face, "Answer me, clone!"

She was going to die. Her next action would ensure it.

The quivering sniper shook her helm.

Her engine whimpered and she opened her mouth, shifting her helm in a futile attempt to renew Energon flow, crying out in pain and terror as he only squeezed harder, his optics gaining a dangerous gleam that verged on madness. "ANSWER ME!"

A loud clatter rang through the room and a streak of blue shot out from the vent and rammed into Overlord's side, hardly making the massive mech budge. However, the action was enough to infuriate the gladiator, causing him to drop her with a reverberating snarl as he poised to lunge at Blurr, who at that point was already across the room.

"You wish to challenge me?" Overlord laughed, gesturing Blurr forward with a wicked grin of anticipation.

Nightracer watched in horror as the blue mech approached as bidden, the normal spring in his steps not faltering for a nano. Was the mech completely glitched? No bot lived through a one-on-one battle with Overlord. Megatron alone could best Overlord. And no offense to Blurr's courage - or rather, stupidity, if she were frank - but he was in no way, shape, or form even half as powerful as Megatron.

/Are you nuts? What do you think you're doing? You'll be a puddle of slag on the floor before you can even draw a weapon!/ She shouted over the comms - as much as one can shout in glyphs - not using her vocalizers, since her self-repairs were still focusing on fueling her Energon-starved processors rather than fixing her bruised vocals.

He drew his blaster and winked at her, /See? No slag puddles yet, so you don't have to start crying over your favorite dead captor. Change the coordinates of the transmat to like, I don't know the middle of the Rust Sea or something./

/I don't know the coordinates to the Rust Sea!/ She objected, running over to the terminal anyway, her servos hovering over the terminal as her optics frantically ran over each key, searching for some sort of help. Her spark pounded as Blurr drew closer to Overlord, casually maneuvering so that his back was to the transmat pad. /I'm a sniper! I shoot things! I don't do transmat control... stuff.../

Blurr's expression darkened for a moment, then he rushed at Overlord, dealing several well-placed blows and darting back out of reach, effectively luring the massive mech towards their trap-in-progress. /I don't know any more than you do! Just do something!/

Her engine whined lowly and she hit a series of glyphs, biting her lip and cringing away from the terminal as if it might explode in her face. When it failed to do so, Nightracer sent a wordless ping to the blue racer, informing him that the transmat was ready. She watched in trepidation as Blurr darted forward again and landed a few punches, then leapt back over the transmat. Overlord took the bait and lunged after the mech, stepping onto the magenta pad right as it reached full power, shooting a blast of magenta light around him.

The mech roared in anger as he realized what they had done, but the sound of his wrath quickly faded away with the burst of light, until the pad returned to its placid pulsing, the thrum of its systems dulling as it powered down to standby.

"Whoo! That actually worked, I wasn't expecting that to work, but mech is he gonna be seriously ticked off wherever he is now. Where'd you send him anyway? I hope it's at least a sector away, cause I really don't want to meet that guy for a long, long time." Blurr rambled; sauntering up to the terminal she was still standing behind and leaning over it to stare at the coordinates she'd mashed in.

Nightracer shrugged minutely, "I don't have a clue... This is all in *Ahtzobahts, which I only know a tiny bit of..." She smiled wryly, "From what I can tell, I transported him to 'The Grand-Lunch's Basement Upstairs'."

"I wondered why your *Cy-Stan was so harsh sounding... Makes a whole lot more sense if your first language was *Dazezik'n. But I'm pretty sure it doesn't say anything close to the Grand-Lunch's Basement Upstairs." He cocked his helm at her for a moment, then burst out laughing when he read what the terminal actually said, not noticing her instant correction of how he pronounced the Decepticon dialect. Another half a klick later, the mech's face fell and he was instantly sobered. "This says you transported him to the Iaconian Hall of Records, which if memory serves is just next to high-command, which means oh scrap, Overlord's gonna kill every single bot he can find until he gets that gun."

"I told you to send him to the Rust Sea! Not the most densely populated city on the planet!" Blurr roared at her suddenly, making the femme automatically tense up and shrink away from the terminal, glancing around for an escape route.

"It's not my fault..." The femme pointed out quietly, her engine letting out a low whine. "I told you, I only read *Daiz'pq'rion and Cyber-Standard."

He looked ready to object, but after meeting her optics he simply nodded, zipping around the terminal to press a few different glyphs. "You're right, it isn't your fault so I shouldn't yell at you for not knowing every dialect on Cybertron, I should just be glad you even know Cy-Stan, cause a surprising number of Cons don't. This should hopefully take us just outside of the high-command building, unless I'm mistaken, which I very well might be, but we don't want to be in the same room as Overlord, and whatever we do, we absolutely have to keep him away from the weapon's vault, or who knows how many he'll kill just to play with his new toys."

Nightracer bowed slightly in submissive agreement to the mech, hesitant to trust that his anger could subside so rapidly. Though so far he had proven himself to be a generally amiable mech, he had also shown a tendency to be swing from extremes of wrath and cheer at a klick's notice.

She sighed, trying not to think about just how furious Overlord would be at that exact moment - shuddering as she could still feel his hand around her neck, crushing vital lifelines with an ease that could only come from vorns of practice.

"And in the meantime, Primus help anyone who gets in his way."

*Ahtzobahts: The dialect of the Autobots. (As pronounced by Decepticons)

*Cy-Stan/Cyber-Standard: Cybertronian Standard. Universal language on the planet Cybertron.

*Dazezik'n: The dialect of the Decepticons. (As pronounced by Autobots)

*Daiz'pq'rion: The dialect of the Decepticons. (As pronounced by Decepticons)