Suns of Honor

Welcome to Tuesday, the new uploading date. Hopefully this will work out. If not I'll go back to Fridays.

Note: This chapter made my mother upset and on the verge of tears. And yes, I have gotten her emotionally attached to the characters, especially the twins. When she wants my undivided attention she now yells, "Look! Lamborghini!" Works every time. ;)

And y'all should thank her for the chapter titles. She's responsible for about 80% of them.

Requested by Aura Black Chan. I hope this is up to your expectations and what you had in mind.

HUGE THANKYOU to Supermoi for all your reviews. I cant believe I hit 700! That just... I mean... It... oh dear... WOW!

Next chapter will be one of my ideas, then I'm going to try and tackle another request or two, depending on what I can get my muse to settle on. She's being rather flighty at the moment. There's a chance I have been overworking her and she's exhausted. I just hope she doesn't decide to jump ship. I should invest in piranha….

0—IOOIOOI-O-IOO-0-O0-I0-O00I-0-0O-0-0I-0-0I-0O00O0-O00-0O00-O0O0-0O0

Sunstreaker opened the door, before following his brother over the threshold. Mechs and a few femmes filled the establishment. All of them drinking, laughing, enjoying the freedom they now exercised with the defeat of the Decepticons. Sideswipe went to the bar, waiting for the bartender to make his way down the long isle and ordered two high grade cubes with magnesium shots. Sunstreaker picked a table against the wall that afforded a view of the door. It may be peace time but he wasn't taking any chances. Old habits were hard to break, especially when they were ingrained for so long and saved your life. Sideswipe brought the two large crystal containers filled with glowing purple energon and a tray with several small shot glasses.

"Look at them," Sunstreaker said, staring at the assorted bots who were enjoying the festivities. "They act is if nothing has happened."

Sideswipe said down and poured his brother a shot, setting up their drinks in the fashion they preferred. His optics caught the friendly smiles and laughing banter between assorted Cybertronians who all seemed to be best friends.

"Look at their frames," Sunstreaker said, his voice barely carrying over the din. He opened the bond to convey the feelings he didn't know how to put into words. "Most lack a sigil."

"Doubtful they even fought," Sideswipe added sliding a glass toward his twin.

Sunstreaker took the offered drink, transferring his gaze to the swirling liquid.

"What should be drink to?" Sideswipe asked.

"You never needed a reason to toast before," Sunstreaker smirked, feeling adoration flood the bond and make him want to slap his twin.

"I always toasted the fact that we were still alive and the war was not lost," Sideswipe admitted. "Now that the war has ended and the Cons are defeated, I don't know what to celebrate anymore."

"The end of the cons isn't a reason enough to celebrate?" Sunstreaker asked.

"With the cons gone, we're out of a job," Sideswipe said.

"Who knew that war could mean employment." Sunstreaker added, suppressing a grin.

"And Cybertron doesn't have unemployment," Sideswipe smirked at the thought of standing in an unemployment line. What job could two ex-gladiators possible find that would fulfill their emotional needs, like fighting for their friends?

"Friends," Sunstreaker said, earning a surprised feeling from his brother. He looked up into the optics he had known all his life and added, "Let's drink to Friends. I think they would have liked that."

Sideswipe gave a muted nod and as mirror images the twins downed their shots. Sideswipe pulled a face, giving the crystalline glass a dirty look.

"Not as good as what I brew, but it's okay, if not lacking on the punch," Sideswipe commented.

Sunstreaker sat his shot glass down, his expression morose. "I miss them."

Sideswipe felt the misery from his brother and leaned back against the seat, his shoulder touching Sunstreaker's.

"I miss them too," Sideswipe said softly. Suddenly the high grade didn't seem so inviting. It seemed… hollow.

Sunstreaker's digits swirled patterns on the table in an unseen mosaic. The invisible script was elegant, graceful and flowing as he spelled out the names of those lost.

"Optimus," Sunstreaker said, the hurt in his spark bouncing back and forth between himself and his twin. "Ironhide…. Ratchet…. Prowl."

Sunstreaker swirled their phantom names on the pitted surface of the table, his processor lost to memory.

"Prime says we can stay on," Sideswipe put in.

Sunstreaker's head shot, his optics icy as he glared "That bastard isn't Prime! He never will be in my optics."

A few patrons nearby quieted, listening to the conversation. They had just come out of hiding thanks to the new Prime and they would defend him if necessary.

"Prowl would have glitched, seeing how much we cared," Sideswipe added.

Sunstreaker's gaze went distant once again, his shoulders slumping, "Some victory. What is the point in being the victor when you lose so much and the ones most important are missing? They were the reason to keep going in the first place."

"Deep bro," Sideswipe said, but it lacked its usual playfulness.

"I'd even be happy to see Red Alert step through the door," Sunstreaker said, looking to the door as if it would open and their lost friends would come sauntering over the threshold.

"I have a feeling he would be as redundant as us with this new Prime' Sideswipe muttered.

"Stop calling him that," Sunstreaker threatened with a rumbling growl. The neutrals who had been listening in felt chills run along their spinal struts.

"What should I call him?" Sideswipe asked, not sure how to address the person who had been appointed by the Matrix. Apparently the ancient artifact knew something the twins didn't.

"I just call him Asshole," Sunstreaker said, adopting the human idiom. It was fitting in his opinion.

As soon as the new Prime came into power he started making changes. Drastic ones that upset the natural balance that had been in effect since before he was even conceived on the assembly line. Bots were considered too antiquated and replaced with mechs the new Prime had known in his limited existence, throwing the war torn veterans to the wind to land as they may. Young bots, immature sparks and stupid adolescents that were assuming leadership of a world they had no right to claim from those who fought to protect it. Those who were left behind when their comrades were slain and were still slagging good at their jobs. Now, they were considered useless and assigned to 'functions more befitting their talent and vast experience". In other words they were outdated and the new generation wanted the control, regardless of what was sacrificed to achieve it. It was another drawback to the war ending.

The twins sat in silence for long moment, staring at the empty glasses. The music droned on, nothing like the earth music that Jazz and Blaster used to entertain. That music was considered mundane by the new generation. And though they agreed to the alliance with the humans, most of the earthen culture was shunned, becoming beneath those who believed themselves better than the organics who fought and died beside their Cybertronian allies.

"I miss Prowl," Sideswipe said softly.

Sunstreaker gave his brother a look, not knowing the feeling flooding over the bond. It was so strange, feeling this new sensation. Whatever it was. Even the desire to drown oneself in high grade was missing from Sideswipe's side of the bond.

"You miss the brig," Sunstreaker amended.

Sideswipe let out an electronic snort, "We had our best times in there."

"And Asshole almost made us permanent residents," Sunstreaker said. "I still think you shouldn't have pulled me off."

"You already ripped off his olfactory sensor, busted an optic, and broke his jaw hinges,' Sideswipe said with a partial shrug. The fact they were discussing the casual attack on their new commanding officer didn't faze them.

"I don't want to spend a long time in the brig when there's no one to play with," Sideswipe said. "Without Red and Prowl at the monitors, it would just be us, and I doubt the new mechs know how to play our games."

Sunstreaker smirked, his spark feeling all warm and fuzzy with the memories of the past. "Yeah, it was fun, playing with those in the brig."

"Our own special game," Sideswipe smiled, feeling a pang in his spark at the loss of his two favorite playmates.

"Jazz mentioned something about returning to Earth and setting up a base," Sideswipe said, rubbing his chest over his spark chamber.

"With Jazz in charge?" Sunstreaker asked, feeling a balloon of hope well up inside of him.

"Apparently," Sideswipe shrugged. "Heard about it right after the aft chewing we got from that young kid whose now in charge of security. Jazz came in, gave a speech and explained his intent on making a base on Earth."

"Be nice to go back," Sunstreaker said, looking around at the polished, factionless frames that surrounded them. "This doesn't feel like home anymore."

"Be nice to get away," Sideswipe agreed. "Course it won't be the same without our friends."

"And our ambulatory care expert," Sunstreaker smirked, earning a hearty laugh from his twin.

"Only Ratchet could blister the paint off your aft while having his hand buried in your tailpipe." Sideswipe snickered.

"Then beat you over the helm for pulling a stunt in the first place," Sunstreaker amended. The two shared a look that turned into peals of laughter, their drinks long forgotten. Now the liquid camouflage seemed hollow, an empty gesture and not good enough for their friends and the wonderful memories of a lifetime.

"Remember when we first met the old Hatchet?" Sideswipe asked, his gaze distant with fond memory.

"Yeah, and the subsequent beating we both received as he yelled at us when we came in all busted up," Sunstreaker said through his laughter.

"Yeah," Sideswipe smiled. "And then the time I glued his hands to his aft."

"And his tools to the benches," Sunstreaker grinned.

"Then I glued Ratchet's hands to Wheeljack's aft," Sideswipe snickered, the memory as fresh as ever in his processor.

"I remember that one," Sunstreaker chuckled. "Prime yelled at Ratchet for days after that."

"And Ratchet yelled right back at him," Sideswipe recalled.

"And that one time when Ratchet said 'nothing surprises him' and you just go up and kiss him," Sunstreaker said.

"Oh yeah,' Sideswipe said, broad grin forming. "He crashed, woke up, then welded my aft to the medical berth and made me listen to an entire recitation of medical facts."

"Did you listen?" Sunstreaker asked, doubting the unwanted education.

"That was the best beating I ever took,' Sideswipe said fondly.

"What about the time you hot glued fake human body parts to yourself and scared the oil out of the visiting human dignitaries?" Sunstreaker said.

"Oh, yeah," Sideswipe grinned at the nostalgic lane his brother was conjuring. "Got some offers from the human females though."

"Only because you were vibrating," Sunstreaker said with a serious tone before he started to laugh.

"Remember when we got Prime drunk?" Sideswipe asked

"We?" Sunstreaker sputtered.

"Okay, I spiked his drinks and got him hammered off his aft plates," Sideswipe said, waving a hand dismissively. Had someone been paying attention to their conversation they would have believed the twins had a large extensive family instead of reliving the mental anguish they caused to their commanding officers. But rank didn't seem to play into the twins way of thinking. They didn't view Optimus Prime as someone to be worshipped and catered too. He was a friend, and they would have followed him to the Pit and beyond, without question. They were loyal not only to his cause, but to the mech himself. There could never be another Optimus Prime.

The electronic beeps and tones of music filled the atmosphere. Bots mingled, talking, laughing, oblivious to the two mechs sitting the corner, staring at their fuel. Some mechs started to dance, others yelling for the barkeep to set up another round. It was the only fueling bar open on the new Cybertron, and it was becoming an established place to enjoy yourself with friends.

The door opened, admitting a large, but timid mech. His build was unlike anything ever seen on Cybertron. Those nearest the door halted their conversation first, which lead to their neighbors pausing to find out the cause and like a blanket falling over the revelers, silence filled the bar. The two mechs who were supplying the musical accompaniment stilled their actions, following the patrons gazes to the door. The lack of noise drew the twins' immediate attention and when they looked up, they felt a familiar pang toward the newcomer. Sideswipe opened his mouth to hail the bot when the bar owner spoke up.

"Get out," the tall, thin red and green striped mech snapped. His optics was golden and stared with malice toward the timid mech.

With a hurt expression, Swoop's shoulders drooped and he turned, ready to exit. His exodus was halted however when Sideswipe's voice rang out.

"Come join us," Sideswipe called over the silent crowd.

Swoop turned, his optics glinting with happiness as he started toward the twins table. A large, burly mech stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Swoop's wide, innocent optics looked at the mech with curiosity.

"Get out," the burly mech repeated the owner's command.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker launched from their seats faster than a jet and were standing behind the burly mech who dared bar their comrade from joining them.

"Problem?" Sideswipe asked, his voice strong, the timbre deep and resonating.

The mech obviously didn't realize who was behind him. He stared with loathsome optics to the pterodactyl mimic, who remained motionless.

"His kind isn't welcome," the burly mech said, thinking he was being backed up.

"And why is that?" Sunstreaker asked, his own tone just as deep and threatening as his brother's.

The burly mech gave a start, whirling around to stare at the two standing so close behind him. His proximity sensors told him that a single spark was near. It was terrifying to realize it originated between two bodies.

"Whhhaa?" the burly mech asked, taking a step away from the twins.

"Why is Swoop not welcome here?" Sideswipe asked, nodding to the Dinobot who perked upon seeing familiar faces.

"Terrain built scrap is not welcome in my establishment,' the owner barked, coming forward. He glared at Swoop before transferring his gaze to the two who apparently didn't know the unspoken law.

Sunstreaker looked the mech up and down, his lip curling in distaste for the mech's paint job.

"This 'Terrain built scrap', as you put it, has fought in the war since his creation,' Sideswipe said, his fists forming at his sides. There was no sigil upon the owner's armor, showing his lack of factional allegiance. "What have you done in your creation other than hide?"

The owner opened his mouth to speak but his sensors just alerted him to the single spark pulse where two mechs stood in defiance. It wasn't possible. There should be a dual pulse against his sensors. There was no way that two mechs could register as one life force.

Another mech came forward, covering for the proprietor as he scanned his systems for glitches.

"Earthen built scrap isn't welcomed here," he snapped, lumbering toward Swoop who recoiled from the posturing mech.

"That scrap is worth more than all of you smelted together," Sideswipe sneered, feeling a dark thrum through his spark that let him know his twin was preparing for the coming confrontation.

"Is that so?" the mech leered, looking down at the shorter mechs he knew he would have no problem in subduing. If they didn't know their place, he would be more than happy to give them a lesson.

"Swoop?" Sunstreaker said, his timbre resonating so deep that the Dinobot shuddered, optics blinking like a frightened animal. "Go."

"Me, Swoop, don't want trouble," the Dinobot spoke for the first time, looking around at the angry patrons surrounding him.

"You are not welcome," the owner said, jerking his helm toward the door. "Leave and we won't throttle you."

"Wait for us outside, Swoop," Sunstreaker added, his body tensing for a good tussle he hadn't enjoyed in a long time. There was a chance he could lose himself in the mayhem. And it was a long time coming.

"We'll be along shortly,' Sideswipe added, optics darkening as he glared at the mechs who dared to challenge the worth of the frightened Dinobot.

Swoop ducked his head and took his leave. There was an assortment of booms, clanks, and rent metal being split, but the Dinobot learned long ago to allow the twins their exercise and not interrupt them. It was sometime later when they both appeared, looking a little worse for wear but still functioning. They linked arms with Swoop and escorted him back to the base, where they were greeted by security who hauled the twins to the new warrant officer.

"Multiple reports on vandalism, personal assault, physical damage to person and property," Jazz recited from a datapad as it was scrolling in from the emergency mechs responding to the call. "Smashing every chair, table, and even the bar itself, which lead to the igniting of high grade that burned the place down!"

"What can I say, we do it in style," Sideswipe grinned.

Jazz's visor flashed with anger as he slammed down the datapad on his desk. He glared at the small tablet before looking up. "Explain yourselves."

"We were sending off some old friends,' Sunstreaker provided, earning Jazz's startled look. The twins noticed the framed photograph on Jazz's desk of the ARK mechs right after they woke up on Earth. Their optics lingered on the bots that were lost. "We were saying good bye to our friends and when Swoop came in, the other bots, bots who never even fought in the war, told him to leave."

"They said that Terrain based forms were not welcome in their establishment,' Sideswipe added, his anger starting to make his plating itch for another go around with the hapless bar.

"We fought for equality," Sunstreaker snarled. "Ironhide, Ratchet, Prowl, Prime… they terminated to eliminate the elite upper classes and ensure that everyone was treated as equals."

"Prime always said that everyone was created equal," Sideswipe added, "That everyone has the chance to reach their full potential."

"And to have neutrals, to say that Swoop, a Dinobot who fought and protected their very rights, isn't welcome in their establishment because he wasn't constructed on Cybertron?" Sunstreaker asked.

"It's disgusting,' Sideswipe said, his optics boring into the visor of the only friend the twins felt they had left. "It's disgraceful. It goes against everything that we fought for."

"Prime would have been ashamed of his people for acting like that," Sunstreaker said.

"Indeed I am," came a rumbling tenor from the door.

The three mechs jumped, the twins whirling around to see Rodimus Prime standing in the doorway.

"Sir," Jazz said, his back stiffing in a perfect imitation of Prowl. "What do I owe this pleasure?"

"I heard there was a fight that lead to the first bar being burned to the ground." Rodimus Prime said, looking between the two guilty mechs that were still covered in soot.

"That would be us," Sideswipe said without hesitation. Sunstreaker scowled, his fists forming. "We were defending a comrade who was slandered and abused by neutrals who didn't seem to understand that the bot they were attacking was a friend of ours."

"I see," came the answer, laced with skepticism. "And there was no other alternative than to beat the bolts out of several former neutrals and burn down the only functioning bar on Cybertron?"

"Other bars can open," Sideswipe said in nonchalance.

"No one attacks our friends without being punished,' Sunstreaker put in, his optics narrowing.

"And yet you still attacked those who did no 'physical' harm to you or to your fiend and saw fit to send them all to the medics for severe injuries?"

"We protect our own," Sideswipe said, shifting slightly to block Sunstreaker incase he decided to whoop the new Prime again.

"Then perhaps some time in the brig would cool your processors?" Rodimus said, looking between the two.

He really didn't want to get into another tussle with them. He already suffered damage and he wasn't sure how they even inflicted it until he woke up under the medic's care. They were good. And it was more than disconcerting.

"It would be like going home," Sideswipe said with a murderous grin.

"Perhaps the brig isn't the answer," Rodimus said, as if trying to figure out a complicated puzzle. "And all I need to do is send one of you off world and then you will learn a lesson."

"You wouldn't dare," Sunstreaker growled his frame vibrating with his words. Sideswipe shivered from the proximity.

"You forget, I'm Prime," Rodimus said, looking between the two troublemakers. He didn't know how Optimus had believed them to be trustworthy and counted them as his allies.

"Not to me, you aren't,' Sunstreaker said, his customary sneer flaring to life with genuine contempt. "There will only be one Prime in my optics and you are a poor substitute."

Before Rodimus could retort, Jazz spoke up. "Sir, if I may? The twins can't be separated for any long period of time without both suffering from severe spark trauma." Jazz explained.

"And this hasn't been considered a disciplinary tool?" Rodimus asked, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"The slavers who sold us and made us fight in the Pits at Kaon used to do the same thing," Sunstreaker supplied, noting the look of surprised fear on Rodimus's face. To the new Prime, the Pits were just a recharge story told to younglings. "Why would such behavior not shock me? You may introduce that form of corporal punishment, as it is your right being the Commanding Officer of this base and the ill-fated leader of the Cybertronian race, but know this," Sunstreaker said, taking a step around Sideswipe and standing in front of Rodimus. "It was such actions that lead to a revolt by the slaves and caused all this strife in the first place. So go on, make your decision and I'll try not to be surprised when you start enacting the same flawed laws that landed us in a civil war to begin with."

"I request the twins accompany me and my unit back to Earth," Jazz said, breaking the tension that followed Sunstreaker's little speech. "We work well together and they are familiar with Earth and its cultures. It wouldn't be as much of a culture shock for them."

Rodimus looked past the boiling sun that stood before him and gave Jazz a barely perceived nod. "Very well. Collect your supplies and make your plans. You leave as soon as you are able."

Jazz offered a curt nod in response. Rodimus took his leave, not seeing the dual hateful stares sent toward his back strut.

"I have to get you two out of here before you end up terminated," Jazz said, motioning to the door. "Pack your things. You're going home."

"Good," Sunstreaker said, going to the open door and turning to regard Jazz. His optics drifted to the framed photograph before returning to Jazz's visor. "There's nothing here for us anymore."

0—IOOIOOI-O-IOO-0-O0-I0-O00I-0-0O-0-0I-0-0I-0O00O0-O00-0O00-O0O0-0O0

This is the ONLY aspect I will refer to the G1 movie. I ignore it all other times for obvious reasons.

I don't see the twins reacting well to someone who I believe is younger than they are. They hide their maturity by their pranks and attitude, but if push comes to shove, they are anything but immature.

HUGE THANK YOU TO ALL REVIEWERS! And WELCOME to all of those who favorited or now follow the story and/or me. Its great to find all the alerts. I appreciate it so much!

Feel free to tell me your favorite part. I like to hear from folks!