It was a lovely walk. Mirage had surprised himself with the simple enjoyment of strolling under a serene sky. Although a red dwarf star, from Cybertron's surface Proxima Centauri looked a hazy pink casting rose-tinted shadows. Now they were in orbit, their atmosphere would thicken and stabilise eventually leaving them with a seemingly white sun and blush clouds. According to Thundercracker, who apparently was interested in the weather as more than just a bland topic of conversation.
They sat on a ramshackle rubble bench at the end of a road to watch the sun set spectacularly through the dust in stripes of garnet and ruby. Twilight was abbreviated and would be until they had a denser thermosphere, though the auroras at the poles were already appearing regularly. Insipid compared to the borealis and australis, in the Seeker's opinion, but nothing a thousand vorn wouldn't fix.
Mirage unfastened the sling, holding Tempest as Thundercracker fed him. They were sitting together not close. A chaste span between them that the Decepticon observed even when leaning in to give his sparkling a feeding line. He could just about stand the jet that near and seem relaxed. Hopefully soon the bitlet would comfortably tolerate being held by his carrier. Mirage would prefer Thundercracker with his hands occupied.
One of the issues he'd had to resolve in considering accepting the bonding contract was what he would do if the 'Con didn't abide by their agreement. The blue Seeker was a moderate. If he couldn't be trusted then Mirage would have little option but to submit. Then slit his lines while he recharged. The noble had no intention of hurting the sparkling but if things went badly, everyone else was a target.
A worst case scenario. Mirage had enough trust to risk this. Perhaps a reluctant Autobot and a disaffected Decepticon could meet in the middle. Someone would have to bridge the gap if the treaty was to hold. Being one of the first would be a social advantage. He could do this, Mirage told himself, watching the stars bead the darkening sky.
"Do you want to stop somewhere for energon?" Thundercracker asked once Tempest was chewing on his nozzle rather than actively feeding. He tucked the line away and booped his sparkling, who swatted at him in a very Starscream way before giggling.
"Where is there to stop?" The racer rocked the seekerling gently to ease any air in his tank. Hiccups were preferable to purging. At least Thundercracker could produce. Short rations had meant many carriers' lines had been dry.
"A couple of booths in the market do flavoured cubes. We can get our rations there rather than the barracks mess." He did not want to dodge servos with a bitlet and an Autobot. "Mining's started on the dark side of the bigger planet. Loads of lithium if you like the sweet stuff."
Seeing the market would be useful so Mirage agreed. They took their time ambling back, going the long way so Thundercracker could point out the Welfare Office in case Mirage needed to lodge a complaint. His tone suggested that might be a regular occurrence. He also jerked a wing in the direction of the Parole Office, which the surrendered Autobots used as a de facto meeting place because that was one of the buildings where they were 'meant' to be.
"You may go there, of course." Thundercracker said, biting his glyphs. "But I ask you do not go there with Tempest unless accompanied by me. Or Soundwave."
"May I ask why?" Mirage inquired with painstaking formality.
"The 'Bot flyers are there and some of them are space capable and you could leave with my sparkling." The Seeker rushed the explanation to limit the duration he sounded pathetic. The thought process had coalesced spontaneously then his carrier coding had grabbed it, iterating the dread in a familiar loop. He worried about Tempest all the time. The only way to get it to stop was to do something.
"Thundercracker, I promise you I will not steal Tempest from you. I vow on my spark." His glyphs were slow and careful, recognising panic cycling when he heard it. "Whatever conflict might arise between us, I will help you keep your sparkling safe."
"Primus Below, I hate this." Thundercracker overrode his vents and dumped heat enough to send dust swirling. "It's like slave coding, I can't turn it off, only divert it." He paced in a steady pattern, an unwilling chuckle leaving him when the grounder fell into step with him. "Hook said the carrier protocols are supposed to be like this. I can see why mecha stopped creating this way. It feels like a cascade of glitches."
"Having a sire bond or bonds helps moderate the mood swings." Mirage soothed.
"Mood. Swings." The Seeker glared in a way that usually ended with a target lock. His optics dropped to Tempest swathed against his secondary conjunx and swore at himself sub-vocally. "Yeah." He vented. "I got those."
They skipped the market and went home, or to the barracks which was approximately home at the moment. Thundercracker escorted Mirage to their quarters then got their cubes from the mess hall alone. The fifth fundamental force that was gossip had already spread news of his Autobot and his return to communal accommodation confirmed the speculation about his trine's reaction.
It wasn't ugly. Not yet. Thundercracker didn't hurry. He was an officer and officers didn't fluster or show weakness. His weapon system onlined automatically when one of the new arrivals, heavy infantry who hadn't been stationed on Earth, remarked how glad he was to be back on Cybertron if Shockwave was handing out pretty compensation.
The Seeker wanted to charge over to the grounder to shove his cannons down his intake. He did not do that. Thundercracker logged a conduct demerit against the heavy. All officers could see all demerits. He could afford to cool his thrusters. Shockwave would notice the citation. Ditto Soundwave. One or both would bring the incident to the attention of the appropriate commander. Whoever that was would handle it.
The second time Funny-Mech made a remark, Thundercracker could unload on him without reprisal because clearly his commander hadn't handled it. And there would be a document trail to show it. Grunts could brawl with their comrades with only brig time as a consequence but officers had to keep their tempers. Once, anyway.
Back in his quarters, Mirage had Tempest on the berth, both of them lying on their fronts. The Autobot was singing to the sparkling, who was giggling so hard his wing buds were twitching. Thundercracker approached carefully with his field pulled in tightly. Tempest looked up at him and nodded his helm drunkenly; his neck struts not quite strong enough for steadiness.
"Hey there, winglet." The Seeker crooned. "Is your foster-carrier a good singer?"
Tempest beeped. Mirage looked surprised.
"You want him to know me as a foster?" In Iacon, fosterage was a serious matter often bartered and negotiated on par with marriage contracts for it built lifelong connections.
"You nurture him with your spark."Thundercracker said simply. "I'm not going to pretend otherwise." Facing the truth with open optics was part of the Decepticon creed. "I don't like it but I could spark a star with the mass of the stuff I don't like." He shrugged. "Besides, if we flinch or try to hide this, someone'll see it as a weakness and use it against Tempest. Call him a flying car."
"He's pure seeker." Mirage could understand the derision if there had been some irregularity in the bit's sparking, a suspect heir was worse than none, but Tempest was CNA validated. No one could question his heritage.
"Being a Seeker is more than a frame-type or code line. It's a spark trait. It's a vocation." The jet used an archaic word mostly utilised for the priesthood; a destiny or calling from Primus. "When the cold constructs started being made to look like us, to fly like us, things got..." How could he explain? Mirage was a grounder and an Autobot but he was also a noble. "Competitive. Rivalry has always been a huge motivator in Vosian society. Having knock offs and half-trained younglings parade around like they knew what they should be, no."
"Is that why the Coneheads are not well thought of?" Endless intel and speculation had been spent on the 'Con Air Force. Aerial superiority had always been a Decepticon advantage. Not just because of the Seekers but they had been the bulk of the population of Vos and the majority of Vosians had joined Megatron after their capital had been razed.
"Oh, they're sparked." Thundercracker couldn't not make a face. He erased his expression quickly. Dirge, Thrust, and Ramjet were loyal. Mostly. To the ideals of Vos if not those of the Decepticons. "They're just lecherous afts." He fixed his conjunx with a significant look. "Don't go to any of their parties. I won't be waiting for you there or send you a comm inviting you or have asked you to deliver something. They tried that trick on Frenzy. He got so overcharged he shorted out his processor. Soundwave nearly disassembled Thrust except Starscream intervened."
"I won't." Mirage was happy to comply with the request. He did not tell Thundercracker that Thrust's trine had numerous charges against them and had the Autobots won would have faced trial for war crimes. Crimes against personnel rather than the ubiquitous crimes against peace.
"Don't chat with any Seekers until 'Screamer and 'Warp are talking to me again." He advised gingerly sitting on the berth a full arm-span from the 'Bot. Thundercracker stroked a hand down Tempest's back before tickling his tiny peds. The sparkling kicked and vocalised gibberish then yawned. "I'm tired too, bitty. Want your blanket?"
Tempest blinked and yawned again. His carrier swaddled him, settling him in the cradle berth he should have grown out of by now. Mirage slid to his peds. He felt much better for having been out. Drinking his energon, he watched Thundercracker listlessly do the same.
"Why don't you take the bed. I'm not ready for recharge." The noble suggested. He could make himself comfortable on the pillows and read. And plot.
