AN: From the limited reception of the first chapter I could tell this story has some promise so here´s an early chapter two.
"How´s he doing?"
Ever since the Forger had brought Radical back to base he´d been in induced stasis, per Solarflare´s advice. The two femmes worked non-stop to make sure nothing had ended up out of place and to eliminate any exterior injuries that were sported by the small mech who now rested on the medical bay, back plating and wings sporting silver all over from having wounds closed up although most had been merely superficial.
Doomsday thanked Solus for the miracle that was her little warrior, the thought of having to say goodbye to her son gradually fading from her processor. She´d already lost so much up to that point in her life, her friends, her home, her hope of ever knowing what real justice was like, and saying goodbye to Radical could be the final nail in her metaphorical coffin. It was a depressing thought that one more on the death tally could be such a difference, after what had happened she should´ve felt immune to that but, being so close to someone in this way, it made her feel powerless as opposed to what her calling was in the first place.
"I´ll be honest and say if he´d been any other bot of his stature the damage could have been of the permanent type at a developmental level. Rest and checkups are all I recommend for now." Solarflare had kept close monitoring through everyone else´s recharging cycle that night. Being the only one with some sort of medical training and vorns of experience to back up on made her the best for the task, though she knew at that point their little bot was out of danger.
Solarflare was a medic by choice, having studied under the best at the Iacon Medical Center up until a certain point. She´d never managed to finish her education but left with more than enough experience to help support the Maker district and even train others to help out at the only clinic available. Her life experience was a bittersweet one, marked by ups and downs and a labyrinth only she could have navigated to raise two sparklings as a single Carrier and still be the independent and strong femme everyone knew her to be.
Leaning over the medical berth her son recharged on Doomsday bent over to rest her arms on the surface and stared at him with a semblance of a smile. "I feel like wringing out his helm, something I didn´t think could ever happen. Is this how you feel with Mayhem?" Fear was still very much present in her tone. What kind of Carrier was she to be living under the same ceiling as her son and not have noticed his regular disappearances?
"Pretty much. We´re Carriers, it comes with the job to be constantly worried, but in your case I have no idea how you always managed to take it all so lightly up until this point Mayhem is, well, Mayhem, but if it had been Silver I´d feel like that too.." The Solarflare rubbed her digits on the sides of her helm in slow circular motions and let herself lean back on the chair. "My daughter is… complicated. Had I known she´d live up to her designation I´d have picked something less… let´s settle for chaotic. If I didn´t know her Sire´s personality before the war I wouldn't know who she took after. To the Pit with it, if she wasn´t mine I´d mistake her for yours."
"I´m not really big on the grounding thing, I only know how it works because I´ve seen you do it. You could maybe discipline them as commander." The femme rubbed a few dreads between her digits, a nervous tick she´d had since an early age.
"A fancy title I never took out of my own volition. But you´re right, we are going to do something, especially since you´ve been spotted by the Autobots. Let us hope the Decepticons are still oblivious to our presence."
Doomsday let out a sigh and gave a sad smile to her friend. "He´s the problem, right?"
With a venomous glare Solarflare resisted the urge to spit out her next words. "Nothing will ever undo what he did to me. To us all. The Makers had it hard enough without having to scatter across the universe just to hide from a war we had nothing to do with."
"I can already guess what must be going through those close-minded processors. They´ll think of us like scraplets. Where there´s one there could be thousands."
The seeker femme crossed her arms and thought back to her youth with a sorrowful expression. "I´d say six is a long way from thousands. We all wish there were still that many of us online."
"But there are. We´re just a little scattered." Doomsday attempted to reassure her friend. Kneeling down in front of Solarflare she looked into her friend´s optics, hoping her optimism would catch on, even if just a little.
Unfortunately the leader of their small faction had dealt with enough loss in her lifecycle to know looking at a glass as half-full in certain situations wasn´t the best option. She still felt the lingering guilt of betraying Victory´s memory like that, his frame wasn´t even cold when she´d jumped into the arms of another just to feel some semblance of comfort. "We haven´t communicated with another Maker ever since we left Cybertron. I´d say it´s about time to start losing hope."
"Flare…"
"You know it´s true."
"Doesn´t mean I have to accept it. Look at me." The blue and orange femme stood up and did a turn, arms stretched out, to show off her frame. "I´ve got more modifications than a Stunticon that I performed on myself and it shouldn´t be possible that I´d be still online."
Solarflare gave a small smile to the proudly displayed femme. "You´re a Forger, it´s in your CNA to play Primus with anything you can get your servos on."
Gesturing herself Doomsday gave a mischievous smile in return. "Most would call it playing Unicron. And I do recall a certain youngling interrupting me in the middle of frame-changing surgery and asking if I needed an assistant."
They both remembered how they´d first met. The Forger had been the only one in the district confident (crazy) enough to keep alive the tradition of frame modifications and had no shortage of clients who wished to look more a certain way or desired to have internal changes mad. Be they enhanced strength or more room for storage Doomsday was the one to go to if anyone wanted to change how they were. There had been one femme, however, who´d contemplated getting official medical training but wasn´t so sure it was possible so she did the next best thing and went to visit the resident mod expert to build up her medical expertise.
"Erm… mom?" The two Makers diverted their attention to the other side of the room where the heavy-duty seeker silently asked permission to go inside, her frame occupying the entryway. Shame was evident as her wings hanged lower than usual and she kept her servos clasped behind her back.
Even if her instincts told Doomsday to blame her son´s injuries solely on his friend the Forger knew he was old enough to take the fall for whatever reckless situations he got himself into, be it solo or group bad decisions. Gesturing for Mayhem to come inside the purple and white femme approached her and the berth her son was lying on, her footsteps quiet and gaze low.
"How´s he doing?" Asked Mayhem, afraid to even touch her friend´s servo in comfort, although she wanted to do so badly. "He doesn't look bad."
"Miraculously he´ll be fine." The younger bot turned to her mother as the older femme continued her explanation. "But surviving an explosion that size shouldn't be something he can or should attempt ever again. Or any of you for that matter. His wings aren´t as damaged as we feared but the next time he may not be so lucky."
"If he could fly…" Mayhem trailed off, unsure how to finish her statement.
"One day he will." Doomsday cut her off. Radical would one day take to the skies as a proud seeker and they´d all be there to witness his moment of triumph.
Shame returned and Mayhem looked down unwilling to meet the gaze of an angry mother. Just not her angry mother. "Yes. Of course."
An incoming transmission signal started sounding, disrupting their now awkward talk and Solarflare knew who it was. She was not looking forward to having a word exchange with that man but she held no other choice.
"Call your brother and Airachnid, we need to have a meeting. Doomsday, out." Ordered the unwilling commander while pointing to the exterior of the medbay that also doubled as their control center on occasion.
With a parting kiss on her son´s helm Doomsday followed the younger seeker out to leave Solarflare alone with the still recharging Radical. Whatever that man was calling over it was bound to frag them all the way to Cybertron and back, no questions about it.
"But sir!"
"There will be no buts unless you want yours kicked onto the streets, Solarflare!"
Standing up the femme banged her servos on the panel. It was becoming obvious she had no maneuverability on the subject but she´d be dammed if she didn´t try with all her might. "We had an agreement!"
"We´ll count this as help to our country." The suited man on the screen sat behind a desk in an imposing chair but kept his back straight and his expression intimidating.
"But the Autobots-" Before the seeker could argue back she was interrupted.
"What did I say just now?"
Sitting back down Solarflare went to her next option. Reasoning. "Please understand I need to be a leader to my people and I can´t do that by doing what you´re asking."
"And I need to lead mine. You have three days to move out or else we´ll cut off your fuel supply, it´s about time that military base actually served its purpose and you lot to start pulling your weight. You know the coordinates to their base, take whatever you want with you. Good day." Within the second the call was over, leaving a very furious and perplexed Maker.
The president of the United States always looked like a reasonable individual during all their talks but also revealed himself as very resolute in his ways. She´d just experienced the last trait amped to the max with no leeway to her faction´s wishes. "Good day my aft. Victory, if you could see me now. Time to break out the news. I am not looking forward to this."
"Good news then sweetspark, you can skip that step." A familiar voice rang out from behind her and Solarflare turned around to be greeted by the three bots that were supposed to be waiting and definitely not eavesdropping. The owner of said voice waved her long spider-like limbs and grinned.
"I can´t describe how much I hate you all right now." It wasn´t often the leader experienced frustration of enough caliber to say something so harsh to her teammates.
Both Mayhem and Silverbot raised their servos and looked to the side, fighting the urge to back away like the times during their sparklinghood they´d been caught eavesdropping on adults.
Airachnid chuckled with a digit slowly tapping her dermas, her frame leaning against the door frame. "Try ancient Murion, sweetspark. So, because of two reckless sparklings we get a new home. With them." She spat out the last word as if she were launching one of her poison attacks.
"They are not sparklings." Doomsday intervened. "They haven´t been that for several vorns and you know Radical hates being called that."
"And yet look what they cost us. Next thing you know we´ll be fighting Decepticons like those blind idealistic slag eaters."
"No way!" "Alright!" Both Silverbot and Mayhem exclaimed respectively.
"Mayhem! This is not a joking matter!" The bigger mech looked at his sister with incredulity. "You know if he knew we were all here we´d be immediate targets and I don´t like the idea of losing you and our Carrier."
"C´mon big brother, take a good look at us. We can fight better, harder and dirtier than anyone else on this planet." Turning to Doomsday the young seeker looked for confirmation. "I´m so right, aren´t I?"
Unfortunately the Forger had drifted off into her thoughts just before, her frame shaking lightly with a few soundless chuckles. Her optics held a mischievous glint not seen since she´d left Cybertron and her previous life behind.
"Doomsday, care to share the joke with the rest of us?" Solarflare brought the mod-sporting femme back into reality and gestured for an explanation to be given.
If Cybertronians could blush Doomsday would have made a tomato jealous. "Oh… nothing." Having been called out on her drifting thoughts she mimicked the previous actions of her friend´s offspring and looked to the side.
Optic twitching once again Solarflare pressed. "Tell us, if you please."
"I was thinking back to our side careers." Admitted Doomsday with a sheepish half-smile.
With a groan Solarflare sat back down, hid behind her servos and gave a muffled command. "No, just no. Go pack, please. All of you."
Acknowledging her inappropriate thoughts the femme obeyed without objection. "On it, captain."
Silverbot backed away to leave space for the others to do the same and turned around. "I´ll go pack Rad´s stuff."
"I´ll help. Can´t forget my holopads, they´ve got lots of important memories. Also my memorabilia, my tools, my games, my- Whoa!" Silverbot yanked his sister away before their mother could blow a gasket. Mayhem wasn´t small by any means but he still managed throw her over his shoulder. Not surprisingly she kept listing her possessions excitedly, the prospect of moving seemingly not bothering her at all.
Airachnid watched the spectacle both youngsters made out of themselves and hesitated for a moment before following their path. "If I may be excused, there´s some high-grade waiting for me. Not for the move, I just want to be intoxicated enough to avoid tearing out the spark of a certain Autobot."
Watching her family go back to their quarters to retrieve whatever they could carry the seeker could only wait. She didn´t have anything special that couldn't fit in her subspace, long ago having relinquished the thought of making Earth her new home. Cybertron would always be the place for her, with all her friends, patients… and caste system. The thing she´d vowed to fight against and be sure no other bot suffered the fate of Victory. The thing that ignited the war so many lost their lives to and that pushed them out of their now dead planet to hide away on Earth.
"This won´t go well, will it?" Rising his resting place Radical slowly sat up and gently tested to feel for any pain with a few movements. The welds were holding up nicely, all he needed was to ask Mayhem for a fix on his paintjob while explaining that no, he didn´t want to change color or add new designs to his frame.
Not surprised he´d been out of recharge listening in Solarflare once again leaned back on her chain one final time and examined the ceiling with feigned interest. "As well as charging into a nest of scraplets, my dear Radical."