Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Just the plot and OCs.

Enjoy. :)

Chapter 14

It would have been extremely impressive had it happened any other way. That was just the simple truth. It wasn't so much that Optimus was still the biggest bot in Bumblebee's life.

For he wasn't.

The small yellow mech was no longer as naive about the size of bots around him as he had once been when he was palm size. There a few among his every orn life now that outsized Optimus greatly, but there was nothing like the sight that was suddenly before him.

For he had never seen somebot that made the Prime look that small. Not even Grimlock.

Dangling there with his legs almost comically far from touching the ground with a clawed fist clenched tightly around his neck—and a good portion of his chest because of the sheer size of it—Bumblebee, for a moment, could do nothing but stare at how ridiculously small Wardrums made Optimus look.

And then of course, all pit broke loose.

No matter if the mech was a giant shuttle former or not, no bot took the Prime by the neck with some of the closest mechs too him standing around watching. Optimus was no push over either.

Even after the dark words were growled out of Wardrums' clenched fangs as his grip tightened the blaster rifle that had been clenched in Optimus' hand lifted to jam itself between the grooves of his chest armor. All while the twins' blades snapped free, Jazz snarled, Ratchet called up weapons programs, and Ironhide cycled his cannons.

"Drop him, you slaggin' frag—"

Bee didn't see the lift of War's arm or the rapid transformation sequence coming any more then Ironhide did when he started snarling. So the hot blast of dark plasma slamming into both the ebony mech alongside Jazz and the twins wasn't something they could dodge.

The bright light along with the flash of heat drawing a panicked yelp from the young yellow mech even while Ratchet twisted from the shot, arms wrapping around him and drawing him close. No matter if the blast for some reason went wide of them all together.

Spark rabbiting in panic he tried to shove himself out of Ratchet's tight hold, but the kneeling medic kept him to his chest. He growled, turning even with his arms still tight around Bee, to find the cluster of some of the Autobots most powerful mechs laying in a slightly charred pile trying to shove themselves upright. They were all still alive and mostly unharmed, maliciously, and some of the panic died in Bee then, but it didn't ease too much as his gaze snapped back to the towering shuttle to find him snarling down at Optimus.

Pulling the red and blue commander to him until they were noseplate to noseplate, he rumbled. "Go ahead. Fire. I'd love to see if you can so much as dent me."

The rifle clenched tight in Optimus' fist was squealing from the level of plasma he had charged it with. The hot barrel sizzling against the huge black mech's plating and yet it didn't seem that War wasn't even tickled by it.

Jaw clenched tight as he dangled by his neck Optimus shoved the blaster's barrel a little deeper between the slight gaps in War's armor. No matter that the shuttle didn't so much as blink at it.

As those fire colored optics flickered with fires of burning rage War snarled into the dangling Prime's face. "I warned you. I warned you and you brought the little runt here anyway!"

"It wasn't on purpose." Optimus choked back at him, those bright blue optics of his dimmed in pain from the hold around his neck cutting into the flow of his energon and the ease in which his vents could cycle, but he didn't unclench his jaw nor did he lower the blaster jammed over Wardrums' spark.

"Wasn't on purpose!?" War spit back at him, not even caring that the four mechs he'd bowled over in one measly half aimed shot were wobbly getting back to their feet. "You can't even control one slaggin' pint-sized, half grown, soft armored, mechling!? Are you that incompetent, you glitched fool!?"

Ironhide's snarl was growing again, the big black mech shakily getting his feet back under him while his optics darted from Bee struggling but still caught tight in Ratchet's grip where the two of them stood not so much as scratched from the blast. Those dark orbs then shot to Wardrums again. Standing there with a blaster where his hand had once been, the smoking thing still leveled at them while he dangled the Prime by his throat.

As the twins shoved themselves up right, both seething over the black chars down their armor and what was going on before them, they helped a more then slightly dizzy Jazz back to his clawed feet. Their shared snarling echoed along with Hide's but neither so much as moved an inch. Not with the sight of that smoking blaster leveled at them. Not when Dustoff rumbled from where he stood arms crossed a few paces between his mate and the others.

Long, dark rotor blades pierced here and there with shinning silver charms that Bee had not noticed until he was back in the light of above ground, the huge helicopter growled out lowly. "You two had better just stay where you are. You know better than to try that."

"Dust," Sideswipe tone, even if it bubbled with a growl, was somehow almost pleading as his dark blue optics darted between the towering flier and his even bigger mate that held their Prime.

Dustoff's light red optics flickered over the charred fools before darting over to Bee hanging in Ratchet's now slightly trembling grip staring back at him with huge confused optics. He just snorted, shook his head, and turned back to his mate.

"You were warned."

"Dust!" Bee cried out, confused and scared as he wiggled in Ratchet's grip. Staring back at the towering fliers.

Why!?

Why were they doing this!?

They . . . they helped him.

They said they'd take him home.

Sure, War was a glitch. He was mean, he was scary, and Bee didn't understand why he seemed to hate him so much, but Dust . . . Dust wasn't like that.

He had been nice.

Kind.

He had sighed at his mate's anger and kept the stumbling youngling close to his side as they wound their way out of the darkness. He hadn't really answered that many questions, if anything he'd managed to confuse Bee more, but this . . . .

He didn't understand what was happening!

"You hush up, you little bastard runt!" War's snarl had Bee flinching. Doorwings and winglets slamming down to his back in fear as his antennas pinned back down. His struggling came to an end as well. The desperate attempt to get out of Ratchet's grip ended. Instead he cowered back.

More than happy to let Ratchet's grip tighten even more as the medic straightened. Moving the now limp youngling in his arms until he shifted him a bit more out of sight. Optics narrowing as his engine finally picked up a snarl of his own. Matching the growl that echoed even in the Prime's chest now.

"Leave him alone, Wardrums." Optimus rumbled right back.

He had not expected that to get him a roaring laugh from the towering shuttle before he found himself slammed into the red desert sands. The hit dented and snapped several bits of plating and might have done the same to a few struts, but as his blaster went spinning away through the sands he found he could hardly try and shove himself up off his aft and onto his elbows before the huge flier was looming over him. Caught between a dark chuckle and a rumbling snarl.

"Leave him alone?" The big mech barked. "Leave him alone!? I've been trying to do just slaggin' that for the last fifty damn vorns, you damn wanna be Prime! It was you that brought him here! This is all your slaggin' fault. Everything that comes next is your fault! Live with that, you fool!"

"Wardrums," Finally Dustoff's much calmer, but no less deep baritone cut through his tirade. Leaving the larger mech to glance up form where he loomed over the Prime on his aft at his feet. Finding his mate standing there off to the side of him was no real surprise. What was a surprise was that Dustoff was staring off into the sands with a pinch in his brow until he turned again to stare up into those fire colored optics. "It's time to calm down now. You're attracting attention."

War snorted, though he did find himself straightening. Gaze flickering out over the hills of sand to catch sight of a glimpse of black plating far in the distance alongside a larger form of grey before both of them blipped out of existence in a flash of blue and red.

It was too far for the other, much shorter, mechs to have been able to see over the tall hills of sand, but that didn't stop all of them from glancing that direction as well. No matter that all they could see was sand.

Wardrums huffed as the Watchers disappeared from existence again. With a shake of his helm, his engines still snarling, he turned his attention back down to the Prime slumped at his feet.

"Let them come." He said, low voice shaking the very grains of sand scattered beneath him. The words snapping the Prime's attention to him. Those royal blue optics widening in something so very much like fear that War was amused. "We'll have ourselves a nice little family reunion."

Dustoff snorted, heavy arms tightening in their cross against his chest while his blades twitched behind his back. "No."

War simply gave a fanged sneer, optics still locked down at the bot that dared call himself a Prime at his feet.

Oh if this little glitch's ancestors could only see him now.

How the mighty house of Primes had fallen.

Seemed in the end they still bowed under the presence of a King.

Why of why, did he ever become a General again?

A hard smack through his sparkbond along with a bombardment of remembered images he didn't need tossed at him nearly had him staggering to the ground. Dustoff didn't let up though.

Oh no, he went for the jugular.

The rolling images that swarmed between their sparks were flashed of a long dead world. Of a memory of it once alive with glowing lights under the shine of two suns and three moons. Of beautiful cites sprawling through crystal forest and blowing sands that eventually crumbled and turned to dust under the foolishness and neglect of those that had won the world to begin with. Of huge ships built in a bargain that never should have been made to make even him look small. Ships that filled to the brim with those that survived the plague, jetting off into the darkness of space. Pilgrims once again in search of a home. For a purpose besides that that they were built form.

The images shifted again. To long nights aboard cramped ship halls. To endless miles of space. To dead world, after dead world, after dead world.

To hope slipping through strong fingers of a mech that never once bowed before.

To shoulders grown tired and bent under the pressure of a promise he couldn't keep.

To a sudden flare of hope in the form a bubbly bright new spark. A sparkling that glowed the color of a soft sun, with optics so blue the cloud drifters of the far corners of space would be jealous.

To a purpose being found again even when age and weariness left that new spark orphaned. Left War and Dust both to fill places they didn't know how, but did anyway. For hope had returned to them.

The imagines staggered him back several steps. Pain flaring after every one of them, but Dustoff was nowhere close to done. The memory images shifted once again, showing now a collection of ships finding each other in the vastness of space once again. To a once proud prince, short time king, now leading a dwindling people starving to death on their own ships bowing his head in respect to the plan of two other kings.

To a plan that was just crazy enough it might save them all.

To another deal with the darkness in a desperate attempt to stay afloat.

To a war that broke out among the cosmos in which his race picked up a task they had had been built for, had run from, and then in the end would eventually flee again that he lead the frontlines off for a galaxies wide struggle that killed more worlds and races then War ever wanted to think back on.

Then freedom.

Freedom that came soaked in energon and blood alike, but freedom all the same.

In a double cross and a finding of something they all never should have gotten their hands on. But that they had agreed to anyway, for the young lives they hid away on their ships.

Then . . . after a whirling mess of black that had him shaking his head to try and clear it he was hit with another flash of memories.

The world he stood on now, shining brilliant and new off the bow of pilgrim ships. Memories of others, the images of sent through cheer filled video calls off in far corners of the universe where they had scattered to be free. Of life rising again under the guidance and imagination of those he deemed wise enough for a King to kneel down to.

Of his life growing content as cities and cultures filled a once empty but perfect world with life. Of a job he didn't really enjoy, but excelled out. A job he accepted for the life it gave a small yellow femme constantly trialing after his feet and then, later his mate's as she became fascinated with what it was Dust did.

He saw happiness.

Their treasured grab at it.

And then, he saw it crumble.

He saw disaster come in bitter death. He saw a collection of younglings not yet ready to fill the shadows of those that had left them behind. He saw greed and bitterness swell between the forces they thought they control learn to control them.

He saw his world fall around him once again.

He saw their life explode into war.

He saw himself chase a foolish mechling bent under the darkness of something he never understood how his creators thought they could control through the cosmos. He saw civil war tear them all apart once again.

He saw the life he had worked so hard to build shatter under malice and sacrifice.

He saw himself and those he swore to protect bound in chains. Disappearing beneath the desert sands so like the ones had once ruled as the world burnt down above them.

Darkness.

Endless darkness that stretched on and on and on until stubborn life emerged again on the surface he had been cast from. He saw as he was strapped in heat, dark, and anger that life slowly bubbled back above them.

He saw culture build, cities form, and New Cybertron change again as history had been lost to it. He saw the truth forgotten under the shifting sands of time just like he and all the truth he stood for were.

Life went on though.

It swelled and it thrived, pulsing and crashing like waves on the shore it fought its way back until eventually it stumbled upon him and the darkness that held him once again.

He watched from chains as history slowly repeated itself.

He watched hope fade as he failed the one precious thing he had left to cling to in the darkness. He watched as another soft sun yellow life with brilliant blue optics that would make the cloud drifters of the far reaches of space jealous come into being.

He snarled loud enough to rattle his own plating as he suddenly tore himself from the flood of memories though his spark. Whole frame shaking, head more so then anything else, as he staggered back more steps then he wanted to admit to before finally the bombardment stopped and he was left panting in the bright sunshine again as the wind kicked sand around them.

Panting with turbines whining, thrusters squealing, and jaw hard while he slowly lifted his blazing optics to find those of his mate once again.

And Dustoff simply stood there.

One optic ridge lifted high, arms crossed defiantly over his chest, staring right back as if he hadn't just shot enough memory between their sparks to cripple them both for orns. To most he would look as if he wasn't the least bit effected, but War was not most.

He saw the stress in the lines of his drawn frown. He saw the way his roter blades quivered slightly behind his back. He heard how hard he was fighting to keep his vents from straining. He saw how much he was stiffening every part in his frame like only a medic could to hide the true effect of what he had just done.

It left them both just standing there.

Staring.

For longer than War truly wanted to think the two of them simply stood there staring at each other. Until finally, with his spark feeling like it was cracking inside his chest he whispered out.

"Fine."

And then, with a roar of aching thrusters he shot up into the sky. Huge frame twisting and spiraling as he climbed until the clouds swallowed him from sight.

Then there came silence.

Stretching out between the collection of mechs as all but one of them tried to figure out what the pit just happened until Dustoff finally let out a frame rattling sigh. Turning his attention back to the cluster of Autobots, but more than anything else the little yellow ball of plating tucked behind the safety of another medic.

Spark aching in his chest for more than just the forced memory purge he manipulated he stared down at that tiny young thing that looked far too much like a ghost for his own good.

Quietly, he finally turned his attention back to the Prime that had long since pulled himself back to his feet. Though he hadn't yet reached for his blaster.

"Come." He softly said. "Might as well continue this in the cool."

With that, he turned. Giving his back to a collection of mechs that a few moments ago likely would have shot him in it. Now, instead they watched him bewildered as he marched back the way he had come to the tunnel outlet they had left behind.

"Dustoff?" It being Sideswipe that called after him in no way surprised the huge flier. If anything, he was a little glad it was him. Pausing as he climbed the dune of sand that had laid behind him, he tilted his head back to give his audio over his shoulder.

"You are out here looking for what it is Megatron has been combing the desert for, yes?"

Shocked nothingness was given back to him for a long cluster of klicks until finally Optimus spoke.

"Yes." He didn't seem to think he needed to question how it was Dustoff knew that though.

Well, at least the young princeling was learning something.

It was about time.

"Then you should come with me. For I guarantee you that you won't be finding it without Wardrums' and my help. We're the ones that hid the damn thing to begin with. So come along, we'll sort this mess out one way or another and I have on wish to do it in the blistering sun. Besides," Pointing out over to the south he jabbed his thumb at a growing swirl of wind picking up quite a bit of sand. "It's about to get rather loud and hard to see out here."

And with that, he headed back for the tunnels.

Not at all shocked when it was the tiny yellow mechling that finally slipped from the other medic's tight grip to trial after him leaving his adopted family to follow behind.

Lost little trubo-pup was a good way to describe this tiny youngling, Dust supposed.

Their first trip through the tunnels with him tagging nervously along at his feet had taught him that. This time he was curious as to how far it would extend again. Now with his adopted caretakers trailed along after him Dust wasn't sure what the mechling would do.

Tentatively picking his way along just behind Dust again honestly surprised the big mech quite a lot.

He had assumed the little youngling would tuck himself back into the safety of his adopted sire's thick hide and keep himself there. In familiar safety where he should instinctively return. Little mech was still young enough to be ruled by that impulsive instinct to cling. Especially after War's latest fit that frankly Dust was behind all the way until he'd stepped to far again.

The youngling didn't do that though.

No.

He was doing the very opposite. Keeping out of his caretakers snatching grasps Dust could hear every now and again reaching for him. He slipped away each time though. Feelings running through his energy field that the old helicopter doubted he was even aware could be picked up outside of the bonds he was shoving them down.

Dustoff was not shocked about that.

There was still far too much the little mech didn't know. Far too much he doubted he would be allowed to tell him.

So he simply flicked his twitching rotor blades and tried to ignore the residue readings of things he could only do because of a bond.

Still, confused and wary puppy was a good term for the young mech. Tagging at his heels, spending much of that time they walked glancing up his height as if suddenly Dust was going to stop, turn, and answer all his questions.

The old tan mech couldn't though.

No matter how much he wanted too.

So instead he lead them on. Ignoring everything and anything else until they slipped back into the darkness of the tunnels, and then, for a long while after that.

He was actually kind of curious to see just how far he could get before the Autobots' patience would end. For the mechling wasn't the only one whose emotions were more visible to the likes of him then they had any idea.

He imagined if they did know just how much he could read they'd snatch their little mech up and be gone. Maybe not because of him doing it, but for the actual reason behind it.

However, for now he was content with going with it. For as long as he could make it work.

Even if it meant he was forced to ignore the absolute 'pathetic-ness' that was a young lost mech who didn't understand a shred of what was or would happen to him.

It wasn't fair, but Dustoff had long ago stopped believing this universe was far.

They made it a good way down into the long, smooth tunnels before finally the silence was broken. Though it wasn't by the Autobots tails he had as he thought it might be, it was by the tiny yellow shadow he had trailing along at his side.

"Is he going to come back?"

The question was enough to pause Dustoff in his long strides the youngling had to work so hard to keep up with, but it was only for a klick before he resumed walking again.

"You have already seen him runaway once, young one. I'm surprised you don't recognize it for what it is." Dust told him evenly. "It is simply a thing War does. He is angry, and in his anger he does things he comes to regret. Running away before he does them is something he has been doing for a very long time. Have no fear, mechling, he will come back. Probably in just a bad of a mood as before, but he will come back. Finding me is no hardship for him."

And neither was finding Bumblebee, but Dustoff left that part out.

Just as he pretended not to hear the angry snorts that came from the pair of pit fighters he had raised. He supposed the twins had more right than most to huff about Wardrums' actions. He would give them their pettiness for now.

He knew seeing the little mech that had come to mean so much to them choose Dustoff's shadow instead of their own had to be hard for all of them.

He also pretended not to know just how much harder it was all going to get for them before this was said and done. That was better left for later though. Not that he could tell them much of anything to do with it anyway.

"Why did he do that?" This question came with a little more unease, but Dustoff simply huffed a laugh as he replied.

"He has his reasons."

"But—"

"Accepting that is what will bring you the most ease for now, young one. You should just do it. The reason why is bigger than a simple response. It is not something I can give you easily right now. I imagine you'll figure it out pretty soon."

That quieted him down again.

The confusion and frustration in his field alive for Dustoff to taste without so much as reaching out with his own.

Damn.

War needed to get his stupid emotions in check.

"Still talking in circles I see, Dust." Sunstreaker's low rumbled was the point he had been waiting for. Finally drawing the big mech to a stop in a relatively light tunnel no matter that that was with his optics calibrating every few nanos to deal with the darkness. Turning he finally let his attention rest on the mechs following after him.

Lifting an optic ridge he huffed down at the golden mech had had scrapped off of arena floors when he was still smaller then the youngling caught between them. "I can try again if you would like. I'm sure there is an explanation to be found in there somewhere."

Sunstreaker just growled. His brother's hand wrapping around his lower arm as well as the yellow and red medic shoving him hard in the side kept him still.

Like the hot-tempered fool could do more then get his aft kicked should he so much as twitch at Dust. Obviously, the twins had been with the Autobots too long if they had forgotten just who they owed what to.

"Umm . . . ." The mechling speaking up again pulled Dustoff's attention before he could lay into the pair of them. "You all . . . know each other?"

An amused snort left Dustoff before he could stop it. Shaking his head back and forth lightly in amusement he turned away again to keep walking. There was a large alcove of cave not far from here that would be a good place to settle down and have a chat when War decided to come back. There were natural ventilation shafts carved by scraplets long ago that would mean the big mech could start a fire to roast what War would hopefully bring back.

It was about time they put something besides nibbles of energon crystals in the youngling's tanks.

"You could say that, young one."

He was once again not surprised when Bumblebee quickly tagged along at his feet again forcing his family to follow.

"How?"

"The long answer or the short answer?" Dust shot back.

It got him a doorwing twitch and a growl from behind, but the soft reply from the youngling was all he cared for. "Short."

"Sideswipe and Sunstreaker I have known since they were much younger then you. It was Wardrums that taught them to be gladiators and myself who pieced them back together each time they got their afts handed to them."

Another shared growl that was ignored.

"I also know quite a few others you know, if you'd like I can tell you, but as for the rest of your lovely little search party we have only officially met once. Not that long ago really, it was the same time we did."

"Really?"

"Yes, when the last Ring fell. You said you remembered that, didn't you?"

Well he had said he sort of remembered Dustoff so Bee nodded to that. He was still hopelessly confused as to what was happening, and he'd really like it if somebot would bother to really explain something, but he supposed taking what Dustoff would give him would work for right now.

He had narrowed his bonds as soon as he slipped from Ratchet's grip and hurried over Dustoff's long steps. No matter how Ironhide and Optimus had snatched for him when he hurried past he just carried his little self after the huge mech.

What had to be a bream later he still had no clue what was going on and his bonds were still narrowed even if his family was flaring him in growing annoyance and worry. He didn't want to be snatched up and huddled away though.

Yes, honestly, War scared him more than a little bit. He didn't understand half of what came out of the huge mech's mouth or why he did half the things he did, but he was still reeling from that bout of . . . thing that had happened to him earlier with Star.

His friend had yet to make another appearance and he couldn't say he was in all that much of a hurry for him to come back. He didn't get what it was his spark was doing lately.

He wasn't sure he wanted to know, but for some reason something felt like the answer lay with Dustoff and Wardrums.

He . . . wasn't sure how he knew that, but . . . well he just did.

Even if his family seemed to hate the two of them.

He was fascinating by this concept of Dust having known the twins for that long though. That his family had meant them all before, and yet no one talked about them.

Suddenly he came to a skidding halt.

Spark rolling over hard in his chest as his thoughts caught up with him.

These two . . . .

These two that knew his . . . birth carrier.

Slowly, the little yellow mech turned to face his family again. Those bright baby blue optics of his lifting to seek out the darker shade that belonged to Ironhide as he muttered. "You . . . know them?"

Ironhide stiffened, but tried to hide it in a shake of his armor. Like he was trying to get it to stop bristling, but Bee wasn't fooled. It was why when Dustoff finally had them all, somehow, into a big open area of stone tunnel that spread out in a wide circular cave with another few clusters of singing crystals he turned fully.

For Bee paid it all no mind.

He simply came to a stop there in the relative middle of the large cave. Not paying much mind to the find that Dustoff had come to a stop and turned back around to face them all as they all milled into the large round carve of stone.

He didn't take his optics off his sire though.

Watching the emotions flicker through his dark optics as he pulled himself back from the link he'd been trying to flare open since Wardrums stalked into sight in the sand. Now, Hide backed out of it. Trying to close out the rush of feeling flowing through him, but no spark linked to Bee could ever truly hide from him.

He was simply too in tune with them.

So he flared it all back open. Shoving himself through the rising wall he normally respected and crashing it down so that he could get a feel of the fear, the anger, the resentment, the frustration, and . . . other things he didn't know how to name.

And then he fell back out.

Pushed by both his own confusion and Ironhide's shock that he'd pushed through walls he hadn't asked to. It left the pair of them standing there before Bee squeaked, for he had felt enough of it.

"You . . . knew."

"We knew of him, Bee." Ironhide stepped forward only to freeze when Bee took a stumbling step back for it. The big black mech went very still. His faceplate twisting along with his spark as that little yellow thing his life revolved around backed away from him with a slight shake of his head. "We didn't actually know him."

"But . . . ." Another step back as his spark coiled tight in his chest while his vents sped. Twisting he threw his gaze up to find Dustoff's light red optics staring back at him. Something like regret on the tired lines of his faceplate until the look cleared away as Bee tripped over the words. "You said . . . you said that you're . . . that she . . . ."

"Yes." Dustoff let out in a heavy vent not caring to look up when vents heaved across the cave. For he knew what the mechling was getting at, and while he couldn't regret what he had told him to get the little thing to follow after him he did regret what it was about to do. "Yes, I did, and it wasn't a lie. You know that. You can feel that."

Yes . . . he could.

But . . . .

But that meant . . . .

His optics, gathering coolant faster than he realized, turned back to the others with a stare that spoke more than any words ever could. His spark slinking back from his bounds and walling itself off even while Jazz hummed painful at him. Stepping forward past Hide that found it very hard to breathe right now. Clawed hand rising as he reached for the youngling.

"Oh, Bee, come on now. Just hold up a klick."

But the little mech just stumbled back another few feet until he found himself banging back into Dustoff's leg. Head shaking slowly back and forth with a feeling rising in his spark he wasn't sure how to deal with.

Watching as Jazz sagged there like he'd been struck at the reaction, but . . . Bee didn't care.

Because . . . they had known these two. They had known.

Which meant they had known about . . . her.

His real carrier.

They had known mechs tied to her?

And no one had ever bothered to tell him . . . ?

Shivering there against Dustoff's leg he could only stare into faceplates he knew better then he knew his own spark that suddenly he wondered if he knew them at all.

High over the desert sands a large dark ship the likes of which had not been seen on Cybertron in a very long time floated hidden among sweeping desert clouds and stealth tech that had long since been lost elsewhere to time.

Standing at the large window view ports of the ships main bridge a good sized dark mech stood staring out at the spanning expanse of red sand kicking up in a sand storm fit to bury the world should it see fit. The sight amused the mech, though no smile graced his silver faceplate as he watched.

Arms crossed lightly over his chest he shifted his weight to one hip. Bright green optics blazing with the emotions he would not let show on his faceplate.

For it had been far too very long since he had seen sprawling red sands of a world baring the name Cybertron. Though it might have been some eons ago since he had, oddly enough the same purpose he had way back then was the same he found himself with now.

For hidden in his right hand, clenched tight in his fist was a shattered piece of a ship his scouts had brought back to him.

He hadn't needed the physical proof to know this son had died among these sands a handful of vorns ago. Close sire no one would call him, but he had still been tied by the same bonds all creators that spent any time with their creations were. His link to Mayhem had been no different.

Only now it was empty.

The link cold and broken by death.

For some slaggin' glitch out there had been daring enough to take something from him.

He had not been amused.

Especially, when the information hard won and at high price finally came to him.

Wardrums.

After all these vorns, slaggin' Wardrums was still running about messing up his well laid plans.

How very inconvenient.

Now he had been forced to come all the way back to this slaggin' wanna-be world to not so much avenge his stupid son, but to remind that slaggin' bastard of a Knight of his place.

"Lockdown, sir?"

The call behind him had him slowly tilting his head to check over his shoulder. The sight of the dully painted mech he had never bothered to learn the name of had him huffing before he grunted. "What?"

"The tracking system got a hit for those readings you gave it."

Now that, that was enough to curl a small smile up the green opticed mech's lips before he turned back to the window to glare out at the desert.

"Good, set a course to intercept. We're going hunting."

"Yes, sir." With that the mech was gone leaving Lockdown standing alone in front of the wide expanse of windows staring down at the swirling sand.

"Get ready, old friend." He sneered out at the desert. "We're going to finish this."

Far out over the horizon lightening scared the sky as thunder roared out warning for the coming storm.

Crouch low over a rocky ledge Trickster sat on his heels glaring down at the tunnel entrance below him.

"This isn't going quite like I planned." His quiet honesty was met with a long stretch of silence before Impulse finally sighed.

"Nothing with War ever goes as planned. It never has."

"It's all happening too fast." Trickster growled, pushing himself up right as he let his gaze wonder out the other direction of the desert. To where Evermore was currently watching a mad tyrant fume about another failure while his puppeteer pulled his strings.

Their carefully laid out plan was spinning loose faster than Trickster had ever seen anything do and he . . . well he didn't know what to do.

"What do we do now?" He quietly asked his elder balance partner.

Impulse, leaning hard on his large axe, let out an angry huff before he quietly said. "I'm not sure."

That was the problem.

There wasn't much they could do.

Not now.

It was too late, it had already all been set into motion and no number of eons of doing this could prepare the three Guild members for what they now realized they had no way to stop. Partly because it was written and partly because it wasn't.

Fate was a finicky thing, and it was about to play its hand. For it had deemed it had waited long enough.

And nothing anybot did now was going to stop it.

They couldn't, not if hope was meant to last and light was to beat darkness in the end.

Trickster knew this just as well as Ever and Pulse did. The problem was he wasn't sure now he could stand back and watch the energon spill. Not this time.

Well, there is a whole lot of big important stuff crammed into this chapter. I look forward to seeing what you all manage to pick apart and what you think is coming next.

Thank you again for reading and reviewing and for bearing with me between chapters. This semester that has been trying to kill me since day one is finally coming to a close. I've got one more week (a whole bunch of work) and then finals. So much fun . . . . But then its break and I can't wait! Mainly because I might actually get some writing done.

Hope you guys liked the chapter! Let me know what you thought.

-Jaycee