It's only been a couple weeks since the last chapter, because a bunch of this was actually supposed to be in chapter 8! Predictably, things got too long, so it became part of chapter 9 instead. Some exciting stuff is going to happen, and a big reveal. I hope you guys enjoy, and as always THANK YOU for reading and reviewing!
Things moved fast after upgrade.
Thundercracker told her that the older you got, the more quickly time passed, but Updraft didn't think that that was why her life suddenly became a blur.
"Wake up!" Starscream said gleefully, a week after her first flight. Updraft threw a hand over her face, trying to keep the light out where he'd thrown open her blinds. "You have a big day today, my dear."
She sat up, annoyed by Starscream's presence in her room and about to send him out. When she saw Skywarp and Thundercracker in the doorway, and Skywarp's apologetic smile, she braced herself.
Starscream toured her around Vos's government buildings and hangars—little of what she was saw seemed very interesting. Now that she was a fully-built Cybertronian, he seemed to have taken it upon himself to show the city his offspring. Young, pretty and full of potential (so shethought, and Starscream actually seemed to agree), it was apparently no longer necessary to hide her at home.
"So this is Updraft," the bots would say, optics raking over her. She wondered, spark flickering at the thought, what Starscream had told them about her. "Such a striking frame."
At first the attention was a little flattering—she answered their questions politely, and smiled, as her carrier beamed next to her and Thundercracker messaged her praise.
Like a true Vosian, he said, and then Updraft beamed too.
After the third person who leered at her biolights, whose optics lingered on her torso and wings, the attention became less fun. Starscream did his business cheerfully, as if he hadn't even noticed, but his trine hustled her away from those offices as quickly as they could.
"Being beautiful can be pricey," Skywarp whispered. "They should know better than to stare."
They should have, but people should have done a lot of things. It took real effort to stand straight and proud, when she caught on to the nature of their stares.
She tried to listen in every meeting Starscream took her to, though much of it was dry, and many of their focuses turned to her. The elite of Vos always seemed relieved to see Starscream so cheerful, and Updraft supposed that at least she made him easier to deal with. Vos's governing bodies ought to thank her
They got home late, and she couldn't study long before her optics started to blink out. She pulled herself into her berth, and recharged deeply.
The next day, it happened again. And the next. Up early, wash, fly (learn maneuvers, scare TC and delight Skywarp), job shadow the Air Commander. A break in the monotony came when she got her free flight license. Only Skywarp came with her, to her surprise, but it was a relief to not have Starscream's optics on her, judging every move she made. The test was embarrassingly easy, especially with Skywarp's cheering, but afterwards the official was smiling.
"One week since upgrade?" he said, and she nodded. "Maybe one in a thousand get theirs that quickly."
"Are you really surprised?" Skywarp said, patting her shoulder. "She's got the Air Commander's spark in her."
He bought them a huge plate of energon goodies in celebration, in a nice place overlooking a flightpath. It was delicious, but Updraft's tanks churned, and she ended up taking the rest of it home.
Still, the license was a good thing to have. A lap around the neighbourhood, alone, did wonders for her well-being after a long day chasing her carrier, and she started to consider it the highlight of her day.
She had been most nervous about visiting the Vosian Senate. One of the governing bodies with much more power than Starscream and his fleet, it would be bad for all of them if she misstepped. It turned out that she shouldn't have been worried—she got to sit in the viewing chamber with Skywarp and Thundercracker, while Starscream oversaw the proceedings below. She tried to listen well, though a nap, in this dimmed room, was tempting. Skywarp had to be poked awake twice.
"How's upgrade treating you?" Thundercracker asked her during Skywarp's second snooze. She tried to smile, but her wings slumped. They were a dead giveaway now, to how she was feeling. Thundercracker smiled in sympathy.
"It'll get easier," he said. It sounded like he meant it. "Once you're at the Academy, you'll only have to deal with him on weekends."
Updraft tried to be reassured. It didn't work, and she had to pretend she wasn't sulking through the rest of the day. Overnight Starscream's presence had become near-constant, his whims dictating where she'd go and what she'd do. Skywarp and Thundercracker's obvious pleasure at her presence only helped little, and that made her feel guilty. She dreaded each morning, even with the promise of flying and maneuvers.
The workdays were nothing next to the parties.
She had already been dreading these, knowing exactly what they entailed. When she had been very young, Skywarp had found her and the apartment parties had abruptly stopped, but the noise and smell of engex had never really left her.
"She's still so young," Thundercracker said to Starscream one night. Updraft, downing a cube of fuel in the next room, pressed herself right against the wall to listen. "She'll start going to these school, with bots her age."
"Nonsense," Starscream said. "She's entirely ready for it—and she deserves a little fun, don't you agree?'
Updraft made a face. The rest of her fuel was dumped into the sink.
It could have been worse—Updraft found that she was still an expert at pressing against a wall and getting out of the way. With a drink in her hand (provided by Thundercracker, and guaranteed safe), she would find a quiet place, and contact Smokescreen. It never took long for Starscream and Skywarp to get too drunk to notice her.
Enjoy the party! Smokescreen told her. Just dance and stuff. I do it all the time with my friends.
They're mostly my carrier's age, Updraft replied. And it's just the memories it brings me. When I was little they'd party in the apartment and I was stuck by myself.
Well, Smokescreen said. Now you've got me.
Updraft tried not to smile, in case someone half-sober noticed. Thank Primus for long-distance comms.
Smokescreen was real. She had met him once, and they had talked often ever since, over a comm frequency snatched for her by luck. Still, comms were not the same as real, present people, and sometimes she wondered if this was more like having an imaginary frien. Maybe next time Starscream went to Iacon, she could carve out a visit. Whenever that might be.
Thundercracker never made her help get the others home, late at night. "You need your rest," he said firmly, a Seeker supported on either side of him. "It's not your job to babysit them."
He was right, but early on those mornings she'd still check on Starscream, wherever Thundercracker had left him, and comm Skywarp. You finally drink yourself to death?
Brat, he'd reply, on his way to the apartment. You're starting to sound like TC.
She didn't see much of the twins now, and that hurt. Without her needing observation, they were being sent on long term missions, to Iacon and Protihex and beyond. The weeks began to bleed into one another, full of parties and work, and their firm presences couldn't be filled with all the meetings in the world. The occasional long-distance comm of acknowledgment, that they were still alive, did help. But it wasn't the same
When they did come back, it was on a rare day at home. Starscream was still napping off his last drinking binge, and Updraft had settled in with music and her school applications. She was supposed to apply to lots of schools, planet-wide, though everyone knew where she'd be going. She had gotten so focused on this that an unfamiliar tap made her jump.
"Primus!" Skyquake said, laughter in his voice. "Have they ever made you skittish!"
Updraft shrieked, barely shoving the datapad aside as she leaped up to greet him. His familiar grin, and the sound of Dreadwing locking up behind him, were the most welcome distraction she'd ever had. "I missed you! You've been gone forever!"
"You've learned to exaggerate," Dreadwing said. There was a smile in his voice. "How we missed you, little one. Our apologies for our distance."
She still had her arms wrapped around one of Dreadwing's when Starscream appeared, grumbling and rubbing one optic.
"What's all this?" he growled, and Updraft's spark went cold again. Letting go of Dreadwing, she straightened back up. Before her upgrade, she would have ignored him completely.
"Just saying hello," she said. "It's been awhile since I got to see my bodyguards."
Starscream's optics narrowed. "You're too old for such displays now," he said. "And you two. I thought you weren't to come here any more?"
"Since when?" Updraft said, surprised.
"Since your upgrade, of course," Starscream snapped. "You can properly care for yourself now, which means these two have no need for babysitting."
"I'm not so sure," Skyquake said calmly. "I've found I rather enjoyed the gig. Perhaps I'll look through the job listings to see who needs a sparklet nurse."
Updraft had to stifle her laugh. That was a job change the Functionists were unlikely to approve. Starscream was, predictably, unimpressed.
"You might need to, if I decide to hire new mechs," he snapped. He was the Air Commander again now, not a hungover reveler. "Get out of here. Updraft, let's see those essay drafts."
There had always been moments where she had hated him. Usually they flashed, and ebbed away, but the feeling had started to burn within her. She made mental notes of Starscream's (many) criticisms, to show Thundercracker later. He would sift through them for her for what actually mattered.
"Now you're just getting the full Starscream experience," Skywarp said the next day. He was cheerful, but the tone of his voice only made Updraft's spark hurt. "It won't be so bad soon. This like...your adjustment period."
"I feel like my whole life has been an adjustment period," she said. Skywarp laughed.
"Not yet, it hasn't," he said. "He knows you're a full Vosian now—not the same as a little sparklet." He patted her shoulder. "Flying means a lot here, and you've got your wings now. See the good side—now he knows how valuable you are!"
That was an awfully positive spin on Starscream and his new behaviour. When picking out a few pieces of jewelry for her debut, her carrier hovered, and fussed when she made what he considered poorchoices. Iaconians didn't wear jewelry. Tarnians and Polyhexians probably didn't, and Kaonians certainly didn't. Vosians were sparing with the stuff, but Updraft, for once, felt overly dressed.
Not even her new, beautiful polishing set was an real consolation. That was a surprise, when a good wash had never failed her before. She felt especially robbed by this, when her daily wash and and polish had always been such a comfort.
The debut wasn't so bad, really. She had been worried about the attention, but she was not the only young bot making her first public appearance. She might have been the most important, but that only mattered to her trine. She was becoming good at pretending she cared about the goings-on around her, and to everyone else she managed to appear poised and interested. She smiled, nodded, greeted, and held her wings high. She ate her weight in candy, and considered that her little rebellion. If she had to be on Starscream's arm all night, pretending she was enjoying herself, the least she could do was make him wrinkle his nose at how much she packed away.
"What ridiculous customs," Dreadwing said later. Updraft was sick (too much candy) and had been petulant for once, asking for her bodyguard's company instead of going out with Starscream. Thundercracker, tired from the night before, had obliged her.
"They are," she said, stretching her legs out on the couch. "Good candy, but..."
"But?" Dreadwing said. He had been mild, and calm, flipping through the news as she rested that morning. "Adulthood in this city seems suffocating, if you ask me. I thought they'd made your childhood hard enough."
"I'm sure I'll find a way to make him regret it," she said. Dreadwing grinned.
It was a pleasant morning, a rare relief from following Starscream through morning flight drills and making nice with the high castes. Dreadwing's presence was comforting, free of judgment, and she hadn't realized until now how much she had appreciated those quiet mornings. She had always itched to follow Skywarp and Thundercracker into the air, for Skyquake to tell her a story, for more challenging lessons.
These days she could follow the trine, and the lessons certainly were a challenge...but there were no more stories. No more quiet mornings.
Dreadwing watched her with calm, thoughtful optics. "Are you alright, little one? Do you need more medical grade?"
"No," she said. "My tanks are about settled. Just thinking."
"Good," he said. "I know there's much for you to think on these days."
Didn't she know it.
To her relief, she wasn't sick of flying.
The otherwise disappointing start to her adulthood still hadn't marred the thrill of transforming and taking to the air, or the praise over how well she was doing already. There was no fancy wingwork, not like her Seekers, but that took training. For now, she didn't look out of place in the traffic of Vos.
A few people recognized her, and politely pinged her comm as they passed. Updraft pinged back, as she'd been taught, but fortunately, she had a place to be. She was getting sick of flying with Starscream's peers, and having to wait for Starscream to finish his maneuvers. On her own, she could just enjoy the sky.
It worried her, how far the Department of Records was from the penthouse. Thundercracker would fret if she was out too long alone. But it was broad daylight, and she had scraped out an afternoon to herself. She might not have this opportunity again, and, slag, it might even please Starscream if she said she'd lost track of time in the air.
Her landing was shakier than she would have liked. Someone smiled reassuringly at her as they walked on, and Updraft straightened up quickly. People knew more about dealing with newbuilts than with sparklets, it seemed. Now you couldn't tell her from any young, forged Seeker—not unless you knew she was the Air Commander's daughter, anyway.
She had expected such an important building to be bigger, but the Department of Records was sandwiched between a mod shop and an energon dispensary. No one she recognized from Starscream's parties was around to see her, not on this side of the city, and Updraft slipped inside without being stopped.
It was clear that this building was not Vos's top priority. One or two customers were around, browsing for whatever they needed, and one was waiting rather impatiently at the counter. Starscream would have commented on his rudeness, how his foot tapped on the tile, thinking nothing of how many times he had done the exact same watched a worker show up to assist him, and tried to look like she knew what she was doing.
"Excuse me, miss." A tall mech gestured to her, and Updraft turned quickly. "Is there anything I can help you with today?"
Her spark eased—this was an employee, not someone who knew the Air Commander. Updraft straightened up, and tried to look together. "Yes, actually. I'd like to see my personal record."
The mech smiled. "Of course. Identification?"
She flashed her card—gold, to show her status—and the worker had straightened up, nodding firmly. He'd realized she mattered. "Right away, miss! We're here to serve." His optics flickered, and Updraft's spark curled. "I'm required by law to ask, as this is a record open only to you, if you have a purpose for viewing it?"
Updraft nodded. She had practiced this—though she hadn't expected his fear. Was she scary? (Of course not, she came up to his chest. Her rankwas.)
"Some information is needed for my Academy applications," she said. She smiled, hoping he'd relax. "I have most of my documents, but I'd like to be proactive and make sure."
He smiled back, nodding. "Of course! Of course. Right this way, miss."
She hadn't expected such a reaction to her status. In fact, she hadn't thought at all about her gold ID card, because it had looked no different from Starscream's or his trine's. As a sparklet she'd outranked most of Vos, too, but sparklets were spoiled rarities. They had no right to pull rank.
Updraft followed the worker behind the counter, where she was graciously offered a seat and a privacy screen. "You must be newly forged," he said, and Updraft didn't correct him. "I remember pulling out my records, too. Though normally the batch initiator or the creator comes along..."
She smiled, to quell her rush of fear. "I'm just trying to be independent," she said. "I'll have to do it myself eventually."
"Of course, of course!" Updraft wondered if he would agree with everything she said, as long as she had that gold ID card in his face. A sleek datapad was set carefully in front of her, the worker inclining his head her way. "Come and get me any time for assistance, miss. I'll just give you some privacy."
He was out of her way in a second, greeting another customer, and Updraft was alone with her file. She wondered, worriedly, if Starscream would have input a passcode, something to keep her out, but this was one of the rules that spread across all castes: you couldn't access any private record but your own. Legally, she was no longer his.
Not that that was realistic. It still felt as if any second now he would loom over her, snatching the file out of her hands, chastising her for coming without him and "sneaking around." She took a deep vent in as she turned on the datapad.
Most of this she knew. The hospital she'd been born in, her rank, her alt mode (newly added, along with her ID photo). There really wasn't much to say about her, not this early in her life. Next to "Method of Creation" the form read "Sparked," with Starscream's full name handwritten in.
Updraft's spark thrummed in her chest. Just under that, still in Starscream's neat hand, was her sire's name.
She wasn't sure what she'd expected. It was just a name—a Vosian name, at that—written in by her carrier, because he had been required to. She read it, and re-read it, several times. Knock Out of the Vosian Heights.
She scanned a personal copy, though she would never have forgotten it. This was something not even Starscream's trine knew, and it was thrilling to know her carrier had no clue she'd come here. Somewhere on Cybertron, maybe even right here in Vos, there was a mech or femme who had sired her, who might not even know she existed.
It didn't feel like her life. It was like something out of a story, and it was hard to imagine she was really a part of it. Updraft turned off the datapad slowly, standing up to wave the worker back over. Right away he was there, and she noticed guiltily that she'd taken attention from a different customer.
"All done, then?" he asked brightly. He collected the datapad, and Updraft pushed down the sudden worry that he might work for Starscream. She nodded, smiling like her spark wasn't trying to fly out of her chest.
"I have everything I need, thank you," she said. "I'll just be perusing the public records for a bit, if you don't mind."
"Not at all! That's what we're here for." He gestured towards the open consoles. Updraft imagined what Starscream must have been like, when he'd come here to file his sensitive information. Demanding and agitated, snapping and frightening the unsuspecting attendants. "Let me know if you need assistance."
"Of course. Thank you." She sounded so grown-up now, not like herself. Thundercracker would have been pleased, but not even that had the same satisfying ring it had before. Updraft found the console furthest from others' line of view, and started her searches.
Her own public record read out her name, photo, and function—something that still read "TO BE CONFIRMED." When she was in school, it would be updated. Thundercracker had more than one job listed, and she was secretly glad "flight instructor" came before "commander's right wing."
"Commander and Airlord of the Vosian Fleets" was the most embarrassing thing she had ever seen on an official record, and Updraft had never before been relieved that "Air Commander" was his preferred title. Airlord was archaic, a pre-Functionist term for royalty.
Starscream probably still fancied himself a prince, and had insisted the old title be kept. Updraft tried not to grin at the thought.
Dreadwing and Skyquake's records were here, too, but she found herself surprised at the listing. "Industrial Flier" was not in the Taxonomies she'd studied. Perhaps she'd ask. For now, though, she had put off what she'd come here to search. When she finally punched in the name, she had to stare hard at what she found.
Knock Out of the Vosian Heights did not live in Vos, for one. Rodion was a smaller suburb of Iacon, one she'd read was a rough place. (Skyquake would have snorted at that—nowhere, he claimed, was rougher than Kaon's pits.) That was odd, as Vosians were fiercely loyal to their skies, but it wasn't unheard of. It wasn't what made her optics go bright with surprise, and stare.
No Vosian of the Heights had wheels in the place of wings.
He was a good looking mech, with red optics and a sleek red frame, but those wheels were quite literallyin the spot his wings would have sat. No Vosian forged for the Heights would be allowed to take the name with them. There were no roads here, no ground for tires to bite. Flight, here, was synonymous with life.
No wonder Starscream had never told her about her sire. Something twisted in Updraft's tanks that was unsettling, and she did her best to push it down. Smokescreen was a racer, too, and she knew it couldn't mean he mattered any less.
Every shape served a purpose, after all. But Smokescreen wasn't Vosian.
She looked at Knock Out's photo again. He was smirking, but it wasn't the same sort of cruel smile you'd catch on Starscream. More mischief than anything. Not that she'd know, from only his photo, and with some of the people Starscream partied with...
She looked at his function. "Aesthetic Surgeon" meant he did mods, and the wealthy class she was part of did love those. She had seen plenty of them since her upgrade, of varying quality and usefulness. It was entirely possible he was very successful, in good standing outside of Vos. How had he gotten to Rodion, and why had he gotten himself wheels?
The only way to know, she realized, would be to ask him herself.
She certainly wouldn't find out through Starscream. It was clear they hadn't been in contact for some time, and he'd never let Updraft out of his sight if her snooping got out. Neither, she realized, would Skywarp and Thundercracker. They had been loving to her, always protective, but she remembered how Thundercracker had looked once at Smokescreen, a little mech sparked from rollers. How they turned up their noses at the rare grounded mechs who visited Vos. If they knew about this, they'd want her to put it out of her mind. People would talk if it got out. And nothing mattered more to her carrier than his standing.
But now...she knew where to find this mech, and they didn't. Gossip would not be necessary. The datanet would tell her where to find his shop, and how to get there quickly.
She could ask Knock Out herself, in Rodion, and settle her curiosity. With how busy everyone had been, she might even get to do it under their noses. Provided she could get away, but these days she asked for so little. It would be possible, at the right time.
She turned off the console and stood up, her steps just as full of purpose as when she'd come in. There was a lot to be confused about in all this. Vosian life had not been what she'd been promised.
For now, Updraft had had enough. Taking to the air, she began planning her adventure.
As it turned out, she didn't have long to wait. (There had been no problems with her lone flight—Starscream had been pleased to see her taking time in the sky.) Sunstorm, the mech who had moved in a floor below, was hosting a housewarming party, and the trine planned to "drop by" and see him. Updraft had dreaded this—Starscream dragged her to most of his functions, whether they were suitable or not, and she had seen her lifetime share of drunks before her childhood had properly begun.
Thundercracker tried to keep her nearby, of course, but her adulthood had gotten Skywarp to start behaving badly in her line of sight. Often Thundercracker was babysitting his conjux, and leaving Updraft to navigate on her own. Smile and nod, take one small drink, wish Dreadwing could be here and make these people stay away.
As it happened, she had an essay due the next day, one of the ones meant to prove she was Academy-ready. Of course, Updraft could have submitted a blank datapad and still gotten the top seat. Being the Air Commander's daughter trumped merit, but it certainly wasn't who she wanted to be.
"I can't have my classmates think I'm just a pretty face," Updraft said to Thundercracker. She made sure to widen her optics, and rest a hand gently on his arm. "The paper's done, but I really to make sure it's right."
Thundercracker nodded, brows furrowed. Of course he would agree. It's not like he wanted her at these things (no matter how many times he told her she'd have to get used to it). "Your carrier will be disappointed," he started. Updraft frowned.
"He'll be more upset if I don't have the top admission scores," she said firmly. "It's just one night."
"Just remember that we won't be home tomorrow," Thundercracker said. He pulled away from Updraft, turning to get a look at his wings. Something that would have made her spark sink a week ago now made it leap. "We'll be in Helex for that conference."
Updraft wanted to grin wide—it might be days before they noticed she'd gone, if at all!—but she tempered it into a smile. "I'll manage," she said. "Don't drink too much."
The corner of Thundercracker's mouth twitched. "Truly a problem I struggle with," he said, raising a brow. "Be good, little one."
Lying to him was hard. Doing something she knew would make his spark flash with disapproval just about hurt, but she had already decide. This was something she couldn't just put aside. Not when the knowledge was there, when her sire's name pulsed in her brain module.
Starscream didn't complain to her as they left, and she waved cheerfully to Skywarp as the door shut behind him. She spent some minutes staying in place, typing lines she'd delete every so often. Her fingers and wings twitched.
When she was satisfied that enough time had passed, she sprang into action. She had a couple of currency cards now, though Starscream gave out shanix sparingly. She'd done a little math, and found that she had enough for shuttle tickets to Tarn and back. It was supposed to be an unsafe flight path, Tarn to Iacon, but if she wanted to recharge and fuel on her trip...there would be enough money on her cards for a small room.
There should be enough. It had surprised her just how costly living expenses could be—but they were wealthy bots. Surely she could hold her own down there.
Updraft locked the door behind her, and made for the elevator. A flight out from the shuttle bay was much less conspicuous than one off her balcony. Her shuttle seat would have to be from Vos's main transport station, not their building's own. The attendants here knew her well.
She had barely reached out to hit the button when a hand rested on her shoulder. She couldn't help it—she jumped, whirling around to find Dreadwing standing over her.
"It's rather late to be going for a fly," he said solemnly. Updraft tried not to slump.
"Not too late," she said, hand hovering over the button. "Just need to clear my head."
"Perhaps I should come with you?" Dreadwing said, stepping forward to stand beside her. He had a smile on his face, one Updraft couldn't bring herself to share. "I've seen little of you in the air, and those who disapprove are busy." Showing just who he meant, he pointed downstairs. Already the music could be heard through the floor.
"That's okay," she said, too quickly. Right away Dreadwing frowned. Updraft wondered if she could get into the elevator and shut the door before he caught her. "It's okay, Dreadwing, I was just gonna do a quick lap, and then-"
He folded his arms. One brow was raised, and Updraft knew she was doomed. "You're nervous," he said calmly. "I am not sure an evening flight is really what you're doing."
Updraft's wings drooped, and she flicked them in annoyance. Slagging giveaways. Dreadwing stayed where he was, patiently waiting for her response. Her bodyguards had always been trustworthy—they certainly trusted her more than they did Starscream, and that meant something. They'd kept her Smokescreen secret for many years, without a hint of giving it up (or even holding it over her head when she caused trouble, and she had caused decent amounts of that as a sparklet).
This was something considerably different. Updraft sighed, wings still pointed downwards, and turned back towards their door. "No. I'm not. I was about to do something crazy, that would make everyone blow a gasket. I figured I'd get caught farther out, though."
"I see," Dreadwing said. "My apologies, then, for sticking my thrusters in your plan."
"Accepted," Updraft said. Now her shoulders were drooping, too, the name of her sire still rattling around in her head. It looked like that was all she would be getting after all. "Goodnight, I guess. I've got a paper to read over."
"Not so fast, little one." Dreadwing's big hand rested gently on her shoulder, and made her pause. "Your last little outing caused you no trouble. How did you find your first records check?"
Updraft felt as if all the colour had just drained from her spark. She turned, slowly, and knew she must have looked terrified from the sudden anxiety in Dreadwing's face. "How did you know about that?" she asked. "Does Starscream know? You didn't tell him, did you?"
Dreadwing held out his hands. "I would not give up your private doings to that mech," he said. "Not unless your life were in danger. Did you learn what you needed to then?"
Updraft tried to relax. No, Dreadwing wouldn't tell Starscream about that. "Still," she said. "If you know, he might find out, and-"
"I saw you on your way out," he said. His voice was gentle now, the way it went when Skyquake was angry and they thought Updraft couldn't hear. "Whatever you're planning, you are sure you want no one else to know?"
"Yes," Updraft said firmly, though now her spark fluttered. It was hard not to falter under Dreadwing's serious gaze. "I...okay. I'm going to Rodion. But don't tell the trine."
Now Dreadwing regarded her curiously. "Rodion is in another hemisphere," he said. "Quite a ways, and a rough place. Not as rough as-"
"-Kaon, I know," Updraft finished for him. Kaonians were always proud, because they had survived their rough home in one piece. Dreadwing said nothing of her impoliteness. "I need to go. It's so important, but no one would let me if they knew why."
She wondered when Dreadwing would gesture for her to come back inside. He was dragging this out, and her failure was depressing enough as it was. Finally, Dreadwing straightened up, and his optics pulsed a touch brighter.
"You are your own Seeker now," he said. "They keep telling you that, but I suspect those wings you've been so pleased about could be spread further." Dreadwing had said little about how she'd been treated since her upgrade—Updraft had wondered if he'd been concerned about being sent away entirely. "But it would still be better if someone knew where you were going, if you need help at any point."
Updraft sighed. Dreadwing had been treating her like the adult she now was, and he had trusted her to use her new status wisely. If he said he wouldn't tell Starscream, he meant it, and that was important.
"...I found out where my sire is," she said, very softly. Primus forbid a partier come up the elevator right now. "I want to at least see them, maybe even meet them. Maybe they're like Starscream, but, I mean..." She looked up at Dreadwing, whose brows were raised high on his face. "...I think I have a right to find out what they're like."
"I agree," Dreadwing said, and Updraft guessed she shouldn't have been surprised. Hadn't Dreadwing only just said he trusted her? "You have a right to know who ignited your spark. But someone must know where you are, just in case."
From his subspace, Dreadwing pulled out a small credits chip, and right away Updraft held out her hands. "It's okay!" she said quickly. "It's fine. I can get a round-trip from here to Tarn, and then fly the rest of the way, and-"
"It's an upgrade gift," Dreadwing said firmly, thrusting the chip out for her to take. "Purchase the full shuttle trip, and I trust you'll have enough to keep yourself safe and fueled. I will not have you harmed on a flight between cities."
"I'll be alright," Updraft said, but her voice faltered. Dreadwing's voice had gone stern, where normally he spoiled her.
"You may," he said, "but I would rather ensure it. You're right about this being something to do on your own."
Carefully, Updraft took the chip, and stored it away ("subspace" did not have nearly the limitless possibilities people implied, but she certainly had room for this). Skywarp and Thundercracker had occasionally given her pocket money, but she'd learned the twins had little of it to spare.
When she looked back up at Dreadwing, he smiled, and Updraft rushed forward. Dreadwing's embrace was just as enveloping as it had ever been, though he gave a grunt of surprise now on her impact. "Thank you," she said into his plating. "I'll be careful. I swear."
His large hand stroked her helm. She hadn't given out many hugs since her upgrade. "You can be a little fireball," Dreadwing said fondly. "Think about your words and actions, always."
"Don't get fired for letting me go," Updraft said, before pulling back. Dreadwing chuckled.
"I don't plan to," he said. "Now—go. It's getting late."
He took the elevator down with her, but on the shop floor strode off, without another goodbye. Updraft was fine with that, with a new, excited lift in her spark and a little more shanix in her subspace. Her takeoff felt lighter, her flightpath smoother as she headed for the shuttle terminal downtown.
She wondered, again, whether Knock Out knew he'd ignited a spark.
Getting there went off without a hitch. No one looked twice at her upon boarding, and Dreadwing's money got her a private seat where she could nap and think. No furious comms pinged her (though she tuned out her family upon leaving Vos, just in case), and no shuttles or flyers chased them down, demanding her return. It stilled Updraft's beating spark a little, but not entirely.
Iacon had glittered just the same as she remembered it, and she wondered where Smokescreen was among those lights. She hadn't told him he was coming, in case he tried to find her (though the thought of seeing him, all grow up, made her spark jump excitedly too). This was something she'd told herself she had to do alone. The damage from the Iacon attacks had been patched up long ago, and someone ignorant of them would never have noticed what was different.
Rodion was something of a satellite city to Iacon, and Updraft tried to look calm about its sprawling apartments and factory spouts. She tried not to laugh nervously at their second-to-last stop, a city slum known as the Dead End. To her relief, where she was going wasn't there, and she made herself look away from the rough mechs who boarded the shuttle.
Knock Out had been easier to find than she'd thought. Her little excursion as a child still weighed heavy on her, in the midst of her second solo adventure. She had simply searched a directory of surgeons and mod dealers at one of the shuttle's stops, and found his name and shop on the list. It would be easy enough to walk in, she was sure. She'd look like a customer, maybe strike up a conversation, find her way around to "by the way, I'm your daughter."
By her stop, Updraft had realized she could have thought this out better. She might known where she was going (down to an address! A far cry from a little kid looking for the Red Heights), but stepping off the shuttle took her into another world.
It wasn't frightening, not like Vos's lower levels. Not even like a Vosian party. But it was crowded, and lively, and colourful. The nearest storefronts, and the mechs who tended them, all seemed to have a rough edge—no self-respecting Vosian would let their space do without a fresh coat of paint. Iacon's lights glittered in the distance, and she was surprised to find them reassuring. Bad memories or not, they were something she knew.
Updraft was glad, in a rueful way, that she was used to optics on her. When she finally stepped into the street, she knew the stares of leering bots when they landed. She preferred the ones who were just curious, about what such a pretty, cleaned-up Seeker was doing in their part of town. They went back to their business, but the stares of others followed her down the street. Maybe she shouldn't have polished so well the morning before.
The ones who called after her probably expected her to jump—rich kid in a new city, out of place—but Updraft was an expert when it came to drunk idiots. She kept her gaze straight ahead, and thought of Knock Out. Wondered if this would be a horror story to laugh over with Smokescreen and cry about with the twins, or something that would be worthwhile.
Either way, Starscream would burst a line if he found out, and that was a satisfying thought.
He'd burst a line when he saw the room she'd rented, too. Small and a bit shoddy, but the datanet carried hotel reviews, too, and "safe" rang out as this one's strongest praise. The security bots certainly looked the twins' size. She wondered how much easier studying would have been as a sparklet, had she had her own login at the time—the place seemed to have everything, right up to sites for places to stay. Updraft stored her few belongings in the safe, and thanked Primus for her luck so far.
She looked more frightened in her full-length mirror than she would have liked. She squared her shoulders, perked up her wings, and prepared for anything.
She wished Skywarp and Thundercracker were here, too. Skywarp's grin and encouragement, TC's gentleness and kind words. If they could have approved, even come with her...well, things would be easier if this ended up going sour.
But she really hoped it wouldn't do that.
It would be faster if she flew, of course. She could walk to the shop, but why do that when she could scope out Rodion from the air? Her wings itched for it after the long ride.
As she left the hotel, she made for a wide open street, for pedestrians—easy to take off from without causing trouble for the grounders. There was no reason to expect anything going wrong, not when she had done this so many times before, from similar wide places. She took off easily, intent to join the fliers above—
—the sparking, hot wires strung from shop to shop. The surprise was enough to make her scream, but the pain...Updraft found herself falling, and barely transformed before the ground rushed up to meet her.
"Kid?"
A face was peering over her—and a huge, hulking frame, bigger than Dreadwing and Skyquake combined. Updraft shrank back in spite of herself, scooting backwards on the road.
"That was quite a scene," said another voice, more amused than anything. Updraft was about to bristle, until she decided this was no different than Skyquake's teasing. Only from a stranger, in a strange city, on the other side of the world. She could do this.
The bigger mech reached out, and she let him help her up, before stepping a good few paces back. "Was it really that bad?" she said glumly. The other, smaller mech grinned. He had wide fins on the side of his head, and when he grinned at her, they flashed.
"Nah," he said. "Rodion's used to crazy. But you're not from around here, are you?"
Updraft took as subtle a step back as she could manage. Big, rough looking mechs like this generally weren't anything like the twins, even if they'd helped her up. "No," she said. "I'm just visiting."
"Odd place to take a vacation," the bigger mech said. His optics twinkled, friendly enough, but his hulking green frame loomed over her. "Rodion's not usually in the top ten there."
Nothing about them said they would hurt her, not with those kind optics and smiles. Not in a wide street in the middle of the day. Updraft still wasn't stupid enough to relax, but she smiled anyway.
"Personal business," she said. "Thank you for your help—just what are those wires, anyway?"
The shorter mech grinned, his head fins flashing brightly at her. "They don't have light rail where you come from? It's a bit outdated, but they hold the streetcars in place." Seemingly to prove his point, a large vehicle zipped by, and within Updraft could see bots who lacked both wheels and wings. No wonder they didn't have one at home.
"No," she said. "We fly everywhere in Vos, of course."
"I knew I recognized that accent," the bigger mech said. "I know a Vosian—or, he used to be. Runs a mod shop in the North End."
His friend suddenly looked more critical, and Updraft was reminded of the usual opinions of rollers. Not everyone had a Smokescreen to talk to, or Kaonians to help her sift through her city's opinions.
"That Knock Out's just as vain as he would have been in Vos," he said, scoffing, and Updraft's spark jolted. What were the odds? That she would meet mechs who knew her sire, in this bustling city. Still, when he looked at Updraft, his optics were friendly. "But maybe our new friend here is young enough to learn better."
Updraft smiled sweetly at him. "We'll see. Would you be able to tell me where you can pass over the wires?"
The bigger mech pointed some distance ahead. "There's a big opening up ahead. Be careful, you hear?" He elbowed his friend, apparently as gently as he could manage. "C'mon, Jackie. Break's over."
"Yeah," his friend said as he stretched. "Didn't even get that fuel. Distracted and all." He flashed another smile Updraft's way, one she was sure to return. Embarrassment still prickled at her neck.
"Safe travels, kid," the big mech said to her, and they were off, transforming and rolling slowly back out to the freeway. Nobody was even looking her way now—what interest did they have, in a stupid kid who had hit the streetcar lines?
Quickly, she was in the air. She felt better already, getting her bearing abovethe wires and flying, with as much purpose as she could muster, over Rodion. She had gone over the directions to the shop, over and over, and maybe she should have rested first, but she was here and waiting made her feel like she might burst. So she went.
It was harder than she'd guessed. In Vos, everything save a few downtown streets was meant for fliers, towers taller than the clouds Vosians went between and over. Here, all manner of mecha were roaming around, and even those with wheels or wings were often seen strolling. She had seen the same in Iacon, so maybe it shouldn't have come as a surprise.
But it had been a long time since Iacon. Updraft would have to re-adjust to flightless mechs, and do it quickly, if her sire was one. The thought would have horrified Thundercracker and Skywarp, but she had found herself less bothered. Maybe she should have been—a good little Vosian might well have purged at the thought of being part roller.
Knock Out hadn't always been a roller, though, and that was the part that her spark ached the most to know. Had he had wings when he sired her? At first she had started to believe he had—but she had seen Starscream admire wheeled mechs before, in Vos or on the news. The datapads in his room, the ones she was forbidden to touch and had once rummaged through, certainly had images of rollers in them. (Images she had wished her memory banks could purge. No wonder those had been forbidden. Primus, who bought those?)
It had been so easy for her to step into having wings, and Updraft had soon found that they were the only thing left that gave her real freedom. Starscream couldn't hold her up here, not this far away from him. She couldn't imagine giving them up for soft tires.
Of course, her sire might just slam the door in her face. It would be something of a shock to find out he'd sired a sparklet, and he might well want nothing to do with her. She hoped not, not after all this...but the thought still made her hesitate as she touched down (this time mindful of the wires) on a smaller street.
Updraft, used to high-rises, found herself in front of a squat corner building, an alley to one side and other shops all around. Others had more apartments built on top of them, often haphazardly, but none of them had the height and sweeping beauty of back home. They had colour, though, and the windows were beginning to light up as the sun went down. The neon signs, and the moon rising massively behind them, made the world seem to glow.
The trine would have scoffed, of course. Dreadwing and Skyquake might have liked it—their descriptions of Kaon had been vivid enough to tell her it was not like this, not like Vos's lower levels. She decided, after a moment, that she could like it, too. But she would have to see what she found inside this shop.
As Updraft watched it, a light flicked on inside. Her spark jumped. Someone was home, alright, and they'd want to know what she was doing. With as much bravery as she could manage, she strode up to the door, and rang the bell.
There was silence at first, before Updraft heard stomping, and the door unlocked. Her spark skipped again, and she straightened up, remembering that she had hit streetcar lines earlier and might have been charred, might not be presentable, and—
—Knock Out had not answered the door.
The mech standing in front of her towered, almost as big as the mech from earlier. His shoulders slumped, in the way of tired bots, his blue plating nicked and scuffed. He leaned on the doorway, regarding her for a moment before his yellow optics flickered irritably. Updraft forced herself not to shrink back.
"Can I help you?" he asked, in the most unhelpful voice Updraft had ever heard. He loomed, and Updraft did take one small step back. Still, she stood straight, her wings perked up high.
"I'm sorry to bother you," she said. "I'm looking for Knock Out—"
"He's not home," the mech said.
"Oh," said Updraft. "Do you know when—"
"You can come back tomorrow, since the shop's closed up," he said, cutting her off again. He raised a brow at her. "Or you can make an appointment."
"Oh, I'm not here for the shop," she said quickly. "I...need to speak with him. It's a personal matter."
The mech frowned, and only then did Updraft notice that someone else was watching her. Leaning out a window, some ways back, was a bot almost as big as this mech. She was pretty, with large red optics and a round face, and Updraft could see her curiosity. The trine would have scoffed, even made fun of her size. Vosians liked sleek and willowy, and had little time for anything else. She smiled, just slightly, and somehow it made her braver.
The mech in the door seemed less impressed. In fact, she must have used the wrong words, because his optics had narrowed at her in skepticism.
"Well," he said, "if you need to pass a message along, I'm his conjux. It'll get to him."
Updraft couldn't say why, exactly, this made her spark run cold. Of course Knock Out had a life of his own. Plenty of people had conjunx endurae. That should have made her feel better, in fact, because if he could attract anyone long enough to be conjux material he was probably better than Starscream.
But that conjux already looked unhappy to see her. What would he think of who she was? What would Knock Out think, after the time he had obviously spent building his life here?
"I-I was hoping to speak to him in person." Slaggit. She never stuttered. "Are you sure you won't be back soon?"
"Like I said, kid." The big mech's patience seemed to be wearing thin. The femme in the window smiled again, but Updraft could see it was apologetic. "You can make an appointment. Have a good night."
The door shut in her face. Updraft, stunned, stared at it for a moment. She felt her wings dip low, lower than she had ever held them. It felt as if her spark was frozen in place.
How had she already messed this up? Even if she talked to Knock Out soon, or tomorrow, or after that...well. His conjux would have gotten there first, and how could she blame her sire for taking his word over hers?
Optics dimming, she turned to go. She would think about this over night, and decide in the morning what she would do next. The freedom of leaving, of being apart from what had held her to Starscream, had been a nice taste. Really nice, actually. Being someone looking for something, and not her carrier's ornament, had been an adventure. One she had gotten this far in, herself.
"Hey."
Updraft jumped. She had forgotten about the femme in the window already, now staring at her with wide optics. "Are you alright?" she asked. "Sorry about Breakdown—I think you were already a little worked up before he started in on you."
Understatement of the era. Updraft shifted uncomfortably, making a conscious effort to lift her wings higher. "I really wanted to speak to Knock Out. I—I came all the way from Vos to see him, and it's really important."
For a split second, the femme's optics narrowed, and she looked strikingly like the mech from before. She composed herself quickly, but Updraft wondered if mentioning Vos had been a mistake.
"Knock Out put Vos behind him," she said carefully. It was so diplomatic that Updraft wondered how she knew him. Would an employee be that close? "But...okay. I'm so sorry about being forward, but I feel like you're not part of that Vos. Those people wouldn't fly down here, let alone talk to the likes of us, from what I've heard." She smiled again, as if to reassure both of them. "If you need to talk to him, this badly, I'll trust you on it being important."
Updraft felt rooted to the spot. She didn't say that she was a part of that Vos, couldn't explain what about her ridiculous life had made her have to play a part in front of other Vosians. She had become distracted, for just a second. Looking at this big femme more carefully, she could see the nervous ripple in her biolights, and the awkward shift of her plating. She knew it well, because they were all things she was still dealing with too. Clear signs of a new frame.
She finally smiled back, but it was shaky and the bot would know it. Enough crazy things had happened to her to try and make the best of this small kindness.
"It might be the most important thing I've ever done," Updraft said, hoping her voice was steady. "Really? You'll trust me just like that?" The femme raised her brows, but she could tell it wasn't mocking. Something made her wonder if this girl even had it in her to mock.
"One second." The femme's optics went suddenly wide and bright. "Don't fly off, okay? I mean everything I said."
The window shut, and for a moment Updraft stood there stunned. She wondered what, about her, attracted oddballs. Her prickly, cruel carrier and his long-suffering trinemates, who would have been just fine without him but whose loyalty stood firm. A pair of split-spark Kaonian twins who considered themselves her protectors, who could be counted on where her family could not. A cheerful speedster who had survived a terrorist attack at her side, and who had never once let a message go unanswered.
And this broad-shouldered, gentle femme, who had slammed a window shut and had raised her voice inside enough for Updraft to just barely make it out. When she finally met Knock Out, who in Primus's name would he be, this mech who had built a mod shop as far as you could get from Vos?
After a moment, the door opened. Slower this time, and the big mech was back. He looked a little sheepish, and just behind him the femme was smiling.
"I'm afraid," the mech said carefully, "that I haven't shown you proper hospitality. My apologies. Knock Out should be home in about half an hour." He jerked his head towards the femme. "Uppercut here can show you a seat."
How funny, that they would both have the same first glyph in their names. The two bots, both filling up the hall, stepped neatly back so Updraft could join them. Uppercut's smile was just as warm as it had been in the window, and she couldn't bring herself to be suspicious of it. Something, and she couldn't say what, told her to trust.
"Sorry again," she said. "It's been a long week for my carrier. I make sure he minds his manners."
Updraft's optics went so bright that she had to force herself to dial them back.
Sire, sire's conjux, conjux's kid. Two huge, wheeled bots, standing in a shop that needed a new coat of paint, in a city she had landed in that afternoon. Welcoming her into her sire's home. She imagined Starscream's face, how his expression would have twisted in knots at the horror of all this.
Updraft stepped inside.