A/N: Portions of this fic will soon start intersecting a bit more with Crossfire, particularly with regards to why he isn't...quite the same as other sparklings of his age.

Also, I'll be cross-posting my work on Tumblr, so anyone who has questions, head over there and go nuts!

Disclaimer: Nightraider, Dreadnought and Crossfire are mine; everything else belongs to TakaraTomy, Hasbro and Marvel. Take it up with them.

Spoilers: TF:TM is 85 minutes long. Really, if you haven't watched it by now, you've only got yourself to blame!

Italics denote telepathy.

Hora Spissisima – Part 2

CE 2005, Cybertron, Imperial City State of Iacon, the Imperial Tower...

"Spray."

Lyzack pulled the trigger and watched as the fourth blast of liquid nitrogen covered the steadily reducing Katamari with a fine white mist.

"Hold."

Nightraider hefted her sledgehammer onto her shoulder, quietly studying the giant ball for the next potential weak spot. Beside her, Frenzy made yet another gargantuan effort to yank his hands away from the ball and failed miserably.

"Bored."

The F-14 glared down at the Cassette and readied the sledgehammer. "Did I say you could speak?"

Frenzy glowered right back. "Still bored."

"Your problem."

The sledgehammer fell with a deeply satisfying CLONG.

"OOOOWWWWWWWWW!"

Several bolts and two wall plates hit the floor of the medbay, but Frenzy's hands still remained attached to the ball. Inside the Katamari, Rumble felt it was time to chip in with his two credits. "This ain't helpin' to reduce any claustrophobic tendencies I might be repressin'!"

"You're making the dangerous assumption that I currently care about any claustrophobic tendencies you may be repressing."

"Soundwave wants us undamaged!"

Nightraider heaved the sledgehammer back onto her shoulder. "The exact phrase used was 'cosmetic damage only'. I'm more than happy to widely interpret what cosmetic damage is in this case."

She gestured to the next likely-looking spot on the eastern side of the ball and nodded at Lyzack. "Spray."

The teal tetra-jet sent another blast of liquid nitrogen over the Katamari, withdrawing at speed when a fairly large chunk of metal and empty energon cubes detached from the ball. Blinking in the sudden flood of light, Rumble scrunched his faceplates up a few times to get the dead feeling out of his cranial sub-systems, and sighed with relief.

"Freedom!"

Lyzack tried very hard to choose between a look of either revulsion or amusement. Eventually she settled on the same facial arrangement as anyone who had witnessed Skywarp attempting to do the Dance of the Seven Veils for Thundercracker's online-day celebrations while half-cut on Astrotrain's homebrewed mid-grade.

Most of the Air Corps had been wearing that expression for almost a week afterwards.

"That was like watching a giant egg hatching, but without any of the charm and mystery of birth."

Nightraider hiked one shoulder in a vague approximation of a shrug. "The aftermath is pretty similar to birth. A large mess and a general feeling of uncertainty and horror at what's been unleashed on an unsuspecting world."

Rumble gave his co-creator a reproachful look. "I'm pretty sure I'm s'posed ta be insulted by that."

"What you want doesn't really feature much here. Hold."

Lyzack shut off the nozzle.

The F-14 swung the sledgehammer around and down.

BONK.

Frenzy roared in shock. "STILL OOOOWWWWWW!"

"Still your problem!"

From his perch on the opposite berth, Knock Out leaned forward, equal parts hopeful glee and malice lighting his optics. "Can I have a try?"

His CMO spared him a flat glare. "No."

He pouted and fluttered his optical lids. "But I wanna."

"I know you do, but unlike most of the assembled medics in here, I might actually stop hitting when these two idiots are detached."

Rumble fluttered his own optical lids in what he thought was an endearing way, but actually made him look like he had an ocular infection. "Would the 'might' be replaced with a 'will' if we say sorry?"

Nightraider rested the head of the sledgehammer at her feet and rested her arms against the top of the handle. "Depends on whether it's a convincing sorry."

"...I'm not sure we can make that kind o' commitment."

"Then you're slag outta luck. Lyzack, crowbar."

Lyzack dug her crowbar out of her subspace and jammed it into a likely-looking crack Nightraider pointed to, just to the right side of Rumble's head.

"Just wedge the gap open as best you can, and then twist the first thing you can grab."

"As the minister of Primus said to the new-build acolyte."

Nightraider cuffed Knock Out across the side of the head without turning round.

Leaning against the wall opposite the medbay doors, Soundwave heard the familiar clang of his bondmate's hand against her EMT's head and sighed. Nightraider tended to favour percussive maintenance as the default repair and silencing tactic whenever she was placed in charge of the medical wards. Never against a youngling, or those who were seriously injured, but any mech or femme who required minor repairs due to their own idiocy would more often than not begin their treatment in triage with a healthy smack upside the cranial unit.

The young Aston Martin however tended to receive percussive maintenance as a form of affection, or possibly just as an instructional guide; he wasn't actually sure which suited better. Either way, Knock Out had long since been admitted into the rare group of mechs and femmes that the Femme CMO would willingly donate organs to if it was ever required.

Lyzack had been quick to make the list as well. The younger twin of Leozack, she and her brother had joined up after their city state of Carburisia had been shelled by Autobot friendly fire. Leozack had been inducted into the Breastforce (1) early on, but Lyzack had floundered for a while, undergoing the standard stealth training and spending time with the supply units and on the front lines before she had found her calling.

Calling possibly wasn't the most accurate term, but after being collared and shoved in the direction of the field medical unit by Dreadnought during a bombing run, having a dripping mass of Predacon innards shoved into her arms by Nightraider eight seconds after arriving in the metal-lined bunker, and ordered to weld until Razorclaw's secondary energon lines no longer resembled the average sprinkler system, the teal tetra-jet had taken on surgical and repair duties with scarcely a hitch.

The crowbar made a horrific screeching noise as it slid over the jagged edges of the Katamari. Lyzack offlined her audials against the noise and kept chiselling away until the crowbar was finally stuck fast between a plate of what looked like aluminium and the remains of what looked to be a very nice toolbox. She reactivated her audials at emergency volume; just enough to hear if anything was likely to break through the leverage.

"We're in."

The CMO nodded and moved to grip onto the crowbar. "Right. I'll hold, you declutter."

Bolts, power tools, cubes and assorted pieces of limbs flew out in a fairly steady shower as Lyzack dug into the gap. The Katamari gave a few ominous-sounding creaks, but otherwise stayed stubbornly intact. The F-14 wiggled the crowbar back and forth a few times without any noticeable effect.

A warm, scarred limb caught the younger jet's attention. She tapped on it a couple of times, and then leaned over the top of the ball.

"Rumble, which limb is this and how attached are you to it?"

The blue Cassette looked slightly nervous. "Left arm and very? Very attached?"

Lyzack grinned and twisted.

SCREEEEETHOOOOOOOOSH

Rumble's scream was drowned out by the sound of the Katamari finally breaking down into its component pieces. Frenzy only just managed to yank his hands free from a piece of crushed plating before a tidal wave of spare parts engulfed his battered frame. The two jets managed to leap clear and hovered in mid-air while the wreckage exploded outwards. Knock Out frantically drew his legs up to his torso plating and shielded his head from any incoming bolts.

For a moment, silence reigned over the med-bay.

Frenzy burst out of a pile of plating and tools, spat a few screws out of his mouth, and raised his arms above his head. "WOOHOO!"

Rumble finally emerged from under a nest of empty cubes, his plating ragged but his mood triumphant. "YEAH!"

Knock Out looked down and his legs and wailed. "MY PAINT JOB!"

Nightraider and Lyzack facepalmed.

"Oh fragging fabulous. A queue."

Soundwave refrained from rolling his optics at the all-too-familiar rasp of the F-15's vocaliser. He unfolded his arms and pushed himself away from the wall to stand squarely before the red and silver mech he despised most of all.

Eighteen months hadn't seen much of a positive change in Starscream's personality. The Air Commander still favoured whining as his primary method of attack and defence, with perhaps just a little more snark than was sensible for a mech in his position. Consolidating all of the scattered Seekers and flight model troops into two primary air units had strengthened Starscream's power base within the Decepticon ranks, and there seemed to be a new and unwelcome undercurrent in the Air Commander's dealings with Megatron. Instead of making assassination attempts every other joor, Starscream now appeared to be picking his battles more carefully, choosing to seethe quietly instead of throwing a tantrum worthy of the average sparkling.

Even Soundwave was unsure what had prompted this change. The F-15 had long been in the practice of shielding his mental processes from the Communication officer's psychic probing, so there was little he could glean from any stray thoughts.

But Starscream had never been a mech to play the long game. It simply wasn't in his nature, which was geared towards satisfying his own immediate desires and letting others worry about the details.

The others luckily, or perhaps unluckily, tended to be the other members of the Elite trine and the Coneheads, all of whom were lurking behind their commander and peering curiously over his shoulders.

The Air Commander flexed his wingtips, puffed out his chestplates and leaned back slightly in order to better sneer down his nasal plating. "How much longer is this likely to take, Soundwave? When Lord Megatron issues an order, we must always be ready to carry out his will."

Skywarp folded his arms behind his head and smirked. "Wow. Practice that much 'Screamer?"

Thrust just cackled. "Only 'til he could say it with a straight face!"

Without even glancing behind, Starscream snapped his hand back to smack into the red Conehead's faceplates.

"Owww!"

Thrust rubbed a tender cheekplate. "That hurt!"

"Oh, how my spark bleeds for you."

The F-15 kept his glare trained on his fellow officer. "Well? How long until your little brats are ready to do something halfway useful for once in their miserable lives?"

Inside Soundwave's tape deck, Ravage stirred slightly and growled at the jet's tone. A court marshal versus reaching a new height of smug superiority if I eject now and bite him. Decisions, decisions.

Buzzsaw let out a mental warble of amusement. Dear brother, you don't want to bite Starscream. You don't know where he's been.

Unless the five-second rule applies to any physical contact with our beloved Air Commander? Laserbeak instinctively echoed her twin's call.

Ratbat's glower was felt throughout the link. No. Starscream's icky even without the five-second rule.

Any further retorts were silenced as Nightraider came stomping out of the medbay, her arms outstretched and Rumble and Frenzy both hanging upside down from her clenched fists like a pair of de-plated petrorabbits.

"Congratulations, its twins."

Soundwave simply extended his own arms and pulled his eldest pair of Cassettes out of his bondmate's death grip.

"Rumble and Frenzy; unharmed?"

The F-14 folded her arms across her cockpit. "If you take unharmed to mean 'no more dinged up than usual and so help me Primus if I see them in medbay again within the next two orns, they will get a hexane flush aft-first'."

"Hint; taken."

Nightraider turned and shot a look at her fellow fliers, all watching the exchange with no small amount of glee, and Starscream with no small expression of disgust.

"So what have you lot done to deserve the services of the medbay?"

Skywarp raised a cheery hand and grinned. "Mission to Earth. Spacebridging out. You do gyroscope fix-up so we no go sicky?"

The F-14 rolled her optics and gestured for them to go in ahead of her. "Quit with the sparkling-talk and we'll fix all of you up with the minimum of stabbing."

As the six jets clattered noisily into the medbay, she turned back to face her bondmate and opened up the link. I'm assuming this is why you need your eldest twin hellions fully functional.

Soundwave nodded. Correct. I would suggest you request Dreadnought's services before we depart.

Oh joy. What's the mission?

Take over an Autobot vessel, use it to gain entry to Autobot City and destroy the facilities.

Ah. So that's why the 'Structies are conspicuous by their absence.

Devastator's abilities will no doubt be required. If all goes well, expect light to medium casualties. If not...

What would occur if it didn't go well would always remain unsaid.

Nightraider briefly glanced around before she stood on the tips of her pedes and rested her forehead against Soundwave's helm. "Come back alive."

Soundwave deactivated his facemask long enough to dip his head and press his mouth to hers.

"Always."

Safely inside their creator's tape-deck, Ravage, Laserbeak, Buzzsaw and Ratbat gratefully absorbed the wave of love and security that filtered through the link.

Rumble and Frenzy, both still hanging upside down, just made simultaneous gagging noises.

Lyzack clamped down on the urge to kill her commanding officer.

Just.

"Your gyroscope is now fitted to withstand spacebridge travel. Now kindly move and let me sort out the others."

Starscream leaned into Lyzack's personal space as much as he dared and assumed his most seductive expression. "Honestly, is it that hard to admit that you might miss me? That you might long to know that I'm safe? To confess that you yearn for the completion of this mission and my safe return to your loving embrace?"

Behind him, Knock Out pretended to purge into the nearest sharps bin.

Skywarp, strapped onto the nearest berth, was watching the scene with wide optics while Thundercracker was keeping a cautious watch both on his commander and on the seething faceplates of Ramjet, who was being quietly restrained by Dirge and Thrust.

The teal tetra-jet didn't lower her screwdriver from where it was pointed at his chestplates. "Only if my 'loving embrace' has chainsaws fitted as standard."

"Ooooh, feisty. I do like a challenge."

Nightraider marched back into the medbay and hauled the Air Commander away from the EMT by the neck collar. "Really? Then go and challenge one of the new cadets. There's got to be one or two dim enough to want to play with your circuitry."

The tension in the medbay deflated audibly as Starscream staggered back and hissed. "If you don't mind femme, the lovely Lyzack and I were having a conversation."

Knock Out deliberately brushed past the Air Commander and steered the younger femme jet safely out of the way, gently pressing her arm down by her side as he moved. "Yes. You were insinuating things she was uncomfortable with; she was threatening grievous bodily harm in response."

Nightraider smirked. "I wouldn't worry Lyzack, that's how most femmes speak to 'Screamer."

The three Coneheads roared with laughter, and were quickly joined by the still reclining Skywarp. Thundercracker remained silent, but it didn't stop a small smile from creeping across his faceplates.

Starscream's optics gleamed with smugness as he watched the F-14 lean over to calibrate Skywarp's gyroscopic computer. "Oh really. I don't seem to remember you threatening me much, and we've done far more than just...insinuating."

"Please. My threats are always in proportion to the individual I threaten."

She glanced over her shoulder at Starscream's faceplates, and then let her optics deliberately drift south.

"Or in proportion to certain parts of the individual at the very least."

Knock Out chortled in delight. "Ooooh, burn."

Realising there was no way to continue the conversation while keeping what remained of his dignity, Starscream spun on his turbine heel and stomped out of the medbay. Skywarp wriggled frantically until he was free of the berth straps, and then scampered out after his trinemate. Thundercracker dashed over to Nightraider and hooked an arm over her wings in a brief hug before making his escape.

Dirge and Thrust retreated to the medbay doors and did their best to lurk unobtrusively, while Knock Out deliberately removed himself to the other side of the bay, enough to grant Lyzack and the handsome white Conehead a small measure of privacy.

The teal tetra-jet twisted her fingers together, all the confidence she'd had while dealing with Starscream temporarily deserting her. "So...another Earth mission?"

"Yep. Nothing we can't handle."

"Cool."

Her vocaliser failed her for a moment before she managed to whisper, "Um...come back safe?"

Ramjet stared down at the floor and scuffed his pedes against the tiles. "Will you be there if I do?"

She blushed. "When have I not been?"

The white F-15 shook his head briefly, a tiny self-conscious smile refusing to move from his faceplates. His hands twitched and made a couple of vague grasping motions in the direction of the teal femme jet.

Lyzack took the initiative. She stepped forward and wrapped one of her hands around his, making Ramjet look up at her with the classic 'petrorabbit-in-headlights' expression, his turbines stuttering in shock.

Lyzack. Was. Holding. His. Hand.

He tried not to squeak like a fledgling with his first crush.

Maybe this mission wouldn't be so bad if he had something to come back to. Especially if it was to someone like her.

He leaned in slightly and paused. Lyzack was biting on her lower lip, her upper dental plate shining in the medbay's strip-lighting. She tilted her head up and paused...

Thrust gave up completely and cupped his hands around his mouth.

"JUST KISS HER, YOU FRAGGING MORON!"

Both jets' faceplates went utterly black with embarrassment. Lyzack dropped Ramjet's hand as if it had a dose of cosmic rust and belted into the wash-racks. Ramjet span around, a look of impending doom in his optics, grabbed both of his cackling trinemates by their wings and shoved them out of the medbay.

In the silence that followed Nightraider and Knock Out leaned against the back counter and studied the spot where the two Seekers had stood.

The F-14 tilted her head. "Was I ever that bad?"

The Aston Martin squinted thoughtfully. "Nope."

He playfully bumped his hip against hers. "Pretty sure you were worse."

Nightraider shoved him gently in the head before activating her comm. link. "Hey, Dreadnought..."

Megatron folded his arms across his chestplates and deliberately drummed his fingers against his arm plating as he glared at the assorted Seekers tumbling through the doors of the control room.

"Gentlemechs. Are we finally at quorum?"

Starscream returned his leader's look with one of his own. "All Seekers present and assembled, my lord."

The silver gun-former elected to ignore the barely-hidden insolence in his second's tone and instead turned to acknowledge Shockwave, standing patiently at the space-bridge control panel.

"Are the co-ordinates set?"

Shockwave nodded once. "Space-bridge co-ordinates set and locked. Based on the Rebellion's current trajectory, your safest exit point will be on Ceres."

"All troops, move to the plate and prepare to bridge out. Soundwave, Shockwave; a moment"

As the assembled Decepticons marched through the space-bridge gates, Megatron briefly flicked his optics towards the main command area. Soundwave and Shockwave immediately picked up the gesture and moved away from the space-bridge. Once they had reached a somewhat safe distance, the Decepticon emperor glanced over his shoulder and quietly drew the two officers into a loose huddle.

Using his bulk as a shield from Starscream's glare, Megatron studied both the Communication officer's impassive facemask, and the Military Operation officer's expressionless golden optic, and removed two tiny communication devices - one blue, one purple - from a subspace panel built into his left wrist. "Soundwave."

Soundwave nodded. "Sir."

"I have every intention of returning to Cybertron, whether this mission is successful or otherwise. If, however, I am terminated or injured beyond conceivable repair, activate this device."

He made a gesture with a finger to the blue transmitter. "It has been programmed with one secure line which will only connect to the other receiver."

The Communications officer plucked said transmitter out of his leader's hand and fitted it just behind the armour plating on his right wrist.

Megatron turned his attention to his other third-in-command. "Shockwave."

The purple gun-former's gaze flicked between the remaining device and his commander's faceplates. "Sir?"

"There are two secure lines on this transmitter. If you are contacted by Soundwave and the worst has happened, activate the second secure line. The code phrase you will give is, 'D-16 has fallen. Silence the sun'."

Soundwave tensed imperceptibly.

He knew exactly what that phrase would be the prelude to.

From what he could garner of his fellow officer's thoughts, Shockwave was also fully aware of what those words would unleash. "They have all been briefed?"

"From the moment they received their brand, they knew. They are the most loyal out of all the soldiers in the empire. They will not fail me, nor you."

Shockwave carefully swept the purple transmitter into his palm with a twist of his fingers.

"And I will not fail you, Lord Megatron."

He snapped off a salute and watched his leader and co-conspirator march into the space-bridge gates.

"Activating in three, two, one..."

Shockwave activated the space-bridge controls, bathing the entire control room in a brilliant flash of otherworldly light.

Terran Star System, the Martian-Jovian asteroid belt...

In the decades since the Cybertronian War had recommenced on Earth, humanity had been quick to profit from the Autobots' assistance in accelerating their space programs. The joint human/Autobot Earth Defence Command, or EDC, had been formed in early 2003 and had quickly established an Earth space station from the remains of the International Space Station. A long-range station orbiting Pluto had recently been launched, and a further space station was being constructed in deep space. The defences were augmented by a Martian land base, heavily fortified to withstand the frequent meteorite strikes originating from within the Martian-Jovian asteroid belt.

The land base however, had never discovered the Decepticon space bridge terminal hidden on the dwarf-planet Ceres, deep within the asteroid belt. Shockwave, Dreadnought and the engineering team had done themselves proud with the shielding they had erected over the terminal within the past year.

Soundwave jammed one of his portable satellite receivers into the top of a pile of rocks and concentrated. Beside him, his frame rigid from anticipation, Megatron watched the oscilloscope screen on the Communication officer's right forearm, ready to move should the ice-blue lines on the scope so much as flicker.

Behind them, Starscream was keeping watch over the assembled troops, all of whom were locking and loading projectile weapons and fastening grenades onto their plating. Whenever the Rebellion showed up, she would be in for a very nasty surprise.

"There."

The oscilloscope lines began to pulsate in a familiar movement, a movement that indicated an object of significant mass had just entered tracking range.

The Rebellion had entered the asteroid belt.

Megatron carefully trained his fusion cannon on a passing comet. "Soundwave, are you ready?"

Soundwave simply raised his own handgun in confirmation.

The Decepticon warlord fired at the comet, watching as it exploded into glistening shards of ice. At the same moment, Soundwave fired his own gun, tracking the listening device as it shot through space and embedded itself in the Rebellion's orange and yellow hull. The ice shards glanced off the hull of the ship, masking any sound of the tiny drill inside the listening device burrowing through the layers of cybertonium-coated bulkhead plating and tapping into the vessel's comm. system.

Soundwave's comm. link hissed for a moment before the static reformed itself into the sound of a familiar and prissy-sounding vocaliser.

"...Slow down Ironhide, we want to get to Autobot City in one piece."

Autobot SIC Prowl.

Soundwave quickly made two hand gestures to the troops; audio contact made, and prepare to move out.

In his audial, the Autobot weapons specialist grunted as he tugged at the shuttle's steering rack. "...If I can dodge Decepticon rays, I can sure as shootin' dodge a couple of asteroids."

In one almost awe-inspiring wave, the assembled Decepticon forces engaged their jets and took off from the surface of Ceres, Megatron in the lead. Soundwave engaged his own thrusters and launched himself into space, quietly assuming his position next to his leader.

Megatron smirked, took aim at the side of the shuttle, braced, and fired.

The Rebellion's crew had less than a sparkbeat to realise they were under attack.

Clouds of purple-tinged electrical smoke swirled in the cockpit's thin atmosphere, along with the scent of ozone and the all-too-familiar aroma of spilled energon. Sparks of electricity danced over the ruined hull plating on the port side of the Rebellion's flight deck.

The greying corpses of Ratchet, Prowl and the demolitions expert Brawn were sprawled over the deck, vital fluids leaking out of every orifice, and their faceplates contorted in expressions of agony. Ironhide's buckled frame was slumped in a smouldering heap next to the flight control panel, but judging by the lack of grey plating, the old bot was somehow still online.

The Constructions quickly took stock of the status of the troops and noted any wounds sustained. Luckily, beyond a couple of scarred plates and laser burn-marks, troop injuries were non-existent. Content that the majority of the Autobot crew members were never about to get up ever again, Megatron propelled himself out of Starscream's steady grip and transformed out of his alt-mode.

"This was almost too easy, Starscream."

Soundwave jetted past his commander, Bombshell, Skywarp and Dirge alongside him, and assumed command of the Rebellion's flight controls. The two Seekers quickly took control of the gyroscope and steering, while the Insecticon commander overrode the weapons systems.

The Air Commander wasn't slow to snark back at his leader. "Much easier, almighty Megatron, than attacking the real threat; the Autobots' moon base!"

Soundwave could hear Megatron attempting not to roll his optics.

"You're an idiot, Starscream."

The silver gun-former marched down the steps of the command platform into the main flight deck, not stopping in his speech. "When we slip by their early warning systems in their own shuttle and destroy Autobot City, the Autobots will be vanquished forever!"

A pained roar emerged from Ironhide's scorch-marked frame. "NO!"

He dragged himself across the floor and latched his trembling arms onto Megatron's right leg. His fingers clawed desperately at the shining plates.

Megatron simply stared down at the top of the weapon specialist's cranium and sneered, "Such heroic nonsense."

He discharged his fusion cannon.

Ironhide didn't get a chance to scream.

TBC

(1) Don't laugh, that's honestly what they're called.