Sorry for the delays between chapters, everyone.

Rather than get right into "Darkness Rising part 5", I'm going to have some bonding time for my characters. From the get-go, my orignal plan for this was to have more time with just Starscream and Sierra, and I've sort of gotten away from that. I don't want to have to squeeze interactions in during the final chapters, so for the sake of argument we'll say that the Autobot Space Bridge is being recalibrated, delaying their plans.

If you've ever seen the Avatar: the Last Airbender episode, "Tales of Ba Sing Se", you have a good idea of what this will be like.

Right then, roll out!


K-thunk.

K-thunk.

K-thunk.

Sierra opened one eye and groaned. The pounding sound continued, even as she covered her ears and curled a little tighter against the smooth metal surface. Wait, metal? Groggily, Sierra pushed herself up onto her knees and rubbed her eyes. This wasn't her cabin!

"Wha?" she mumbled sleepily, looking around the darkened room with a bleary gaze.

"It's just hail, Sierra," someone murmured, "Go back to sleep."

The plating beneath her shifted position, smoothing out sharp edges and a large hand moved to cover her protectively. Sierra yawned and lay down again, her head against her guardian's spark chamber.

"Guess I didn't make it back to my berth after that last set of calculations," she sighed, almost unintelligibly. A sharp crack of thunder echoed through the hull and her eyes snapped open.

"Go to sleep," Starscream repeated quietly, tightening his hold on the small human. His wings were unbearably cramped in this position, long limbs folded almost comically to fit onto the small bench, but it was the least he could do for his partner. She'd worked so hard to help him finish his report for Megatron, she'd fallen asleep in the middle of writing!

Absently, he drew one servo through her loose hair, scattered about in a rat's nest. "You know, June used to hate storms too," he spoke more to himself than to her.

"On the nights when Breakdown and Airachnid were on missions, she'd come running in here with her yellow blankie and squeeze between Skywarp and me."

A gentle smirk played across solemn faceplates as several memory files presented themselves at the forefront of the Seeker's processor. "Of course, then 'Warp and June had to sing the "Go Home Storm, Nobody Likes You!" song, and by that time nobody was going to recharge." His soft chuckles shook his frame, jostling the girl curled up over his spark.

Sierra lay for a few minutes just listening to the steady pulse of the spark, marveling at being so close to another being's life force. Propping her head up on her hand, she looked up at Starscream's optics, bright blue in the darkness.

"When I was a little kid, I was so scared of thunder that I'd hide under my bed if it even looked like rain. Eventually I figured out that if I was asleep, I couldn't hear the thunder, so I conditioned myself to fall asleep anytime a storm started. Baffled the heck out of my parents." (a/n: actually, I did do that when I was a little kid. Heaven knows how, but I did.) When Starscream abruptly fell silent, Sierra craned her neck to see his expression.

"Are you thinking about your brothers again?" she whispered, laying a comforting hand on the slim servos still wrapped around her.

A heavy sigh. "Sierra, I pray you never learn what it feels like to have two parts of your heart torn away."

For some time there was no more sound but the relentless thud of the hailstones as they pummeled the Nemesis. Sierra bit her lip, debating with herself as to whether any word of comfort would be welcome or even applicable. In the end she decided that she was better off saying nothing at all. The girl tightened her grip on Starscream's servo and he wrapped himself tighter around his fragile charge, waiting for the storm to pass.


Breakdown liked storms.

Missions were limited during the really bad ones, as the atmosphere sometimes interfered with their instruments. Maybe it limited his 'Bot-smashing, but it meant he got to spend more time with the ones most important to him. At the moment, that looked like a holoform having his tailpipe handed to him by a shrimpy little youngling at a game of poker.

"Two tens, ace high," he grunted, shoving a small clip of ammunition into the center of the table. Pax grinned up at his grandfather and threw down his hand.

"Heart flush."

The older man groaned and clapped a hand to his forehead. "Yer cleanin' me out, kid!"

Pax leaned over the table to scoop up the ammunition and set it in a growing pile beside his chair. "Yep! Any more and you're going to have to get me another gun to hold all this."

Breakdown shook his head and shuddered. "Nope! Noooo thank you! Your gramma almost killed me the last time I gave you a gun."

Pax tilted the front two legs of his chair off the ground. "Rani worries too much." He shuffled the cards thoroughly and dealt a new hand. "I mean, fair enough, we're at war. But still, I can take care of myself."

His grandfather picked up his two cards and winced, quickly schooling his features to some semblance of neutrality. "I don't know if I would call that fiasco last month taking care of yourself."

The boy scowled and the legs of the chair hit the deck once more with a clang. "Yeah, I know. Mom and Megatron already gave me what-for over that."

Breakdown snorted as the next card was laid down. "Oh, they did? Well, that absolves me of all concerned-adult-responsibilities then. Do what you want! Go run in front of a cannon or something!"

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Jack grumbled that he got the picture and laid down the last card.

"Okay, Pop. Show your cards." He smirked slightly, confident in his hand.

The grizzled holoform leaned back in his seat. "You first, Small Fry."

Jack flipped over his cards to reveal two sevens and two threes, ten high.

"Hm, not bad, kiddo," Breakdown mused. Then he showed his hand and laughed like a pirate. "Three tens, two sevens."

The boy's jaw dropped. "Aw man! How'd you fool me? I can always read your poker face!" The holoform flickered out and Breakdown drew his servos over his lips in a zipping motion.

"A magician never reveals his secrets."

Pax pretended to flip the table over in mock-exasperation. "Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!" he joked.

The blue Decepticon reached down and scooped up the boy, setting him in his customary place on his shoulder. "How're you holdin' up, son? With the war and all?" he asked suddenly, laughter fading from his yellow optics.

Pax shrugged and leaned against Breakdown's helm. "I always knew I was going to get involved someday. I grew up around this, remember? I handled being in the Autobot base a lot better than I'd thought I would, but it's not an experience I'd like to repeat." his face darkened as he remembered the Autotrooper ordering him and his friends to be brought to the laboratory.

"They messed Agent Woodlock up back there, just like Soundwave. I just wish we could've returned the favor. I still remember when Silas brought Violet here for the first time, you know," he remarked.

Breakdown flinched. "Oh Primus, boy, you didn't actually see her when they brought her in, did you?"

Pax looked away. "I'm not sure what I saw, actually. There was a lot of blood though." His eyes hardened. "Her mom was just helping people, same as Sierra's parents, and look what happened: they ended up lab experiments. Pop, maybe we're tied up with the Autobots now, but someday we have to do something about the government."

The mech held up one huge hand as if to forestall the argument. Humans were another matter entirely. Perhaps they'd sort themselves out once the influence of the Autobots was gone, but Breakdown was very uncomfortable with the idea of Cybetronians of any faction making decisions for them.

"Pax," he began, but his grandson cut him off.

"No, Pop, I mean it. This is the long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object evincing a design to reduce them under absolute despotism! This is the point when it is humanity's right and duty to throw off such government and provide new guards for their future security."

Breakdown chuckled dryly. "Where'd you get that, Megatron?" he asked.

Jack smiled back. "Thomas Jefferson, actually."

The titan left the room with his young charge, and they made their way to the command deck. Hailstones the side of baseballs bounced off the viewport by the hundreds. "Well, at least the Autobots won't be out in this weather," the heavy Decepticon observed. "This is bad business for any vehicle!" He glanced down at the young man on his shoulder.

"Well, come on, Small Fry." He turned and lumbered down the corridor to one of the lifts.

"Where're we goin', Pop?" The question was answered with a roguish smile as the platform stopped midship.

"You're going to get some rifle practice in."

Pax whooped and punched the air. Not even Breakdown's stern warning that he not tell his mother and grandmother dampened his enthusiasm. The mech set him down and let him dart into the chamber to find some targets. Once out of sight, Breakdown's smile dropped. Sooner or later, he was going to have to tell Jack who else had been in the Autobot base the day they'd gone to rescue Agent Woodlock.

Airachnid had caught sight of the man scurrying away as they'd stormed the laboratory, and just by Cliffjumper's muttered ramblings gathered that he was looking for someone. Primus forbid that he knew anything about the boy. Jack knew that his biological father had been a supporter of the Autobots, but little else. Growing up around Breakdown and Megatron, he'd never seen the need for another father-figure, and so he'd never asked.

"Pop! Look, six in a row!" Pax's voice drew him back to reality as his grandson proudly pointed to six perfect bulls-eyes in the moving holographic targets. Some of Breakdown's apprehension lightened at the thought that at least Pax knew how to wreck things. Someone had to carry on the family business, after all.


"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Nurse Darby. We're shorthanded at the moment. Our expert was...we lost him in the rescue," Doctor Blackwell greeted the woman as she stepped out of the warp gate.

All business, June marched down the cramped hallways of the submarine, medical bag in hand. "Tell me what's happening, Doctor. Is it the energon burns?"

Blackwell shook his head, swiping a card to unlock the med bay's heavy doors. "No ma'am, those have cleared up as much as they're going to with minimal scarring. It's more that Violet is...well, you'll see. We're just hoping she'll talk to you."

On the other side of the plastic divider, the patient sat languidly in the hospital cot, a blank expression on her face. Her one hand twitched listlessly in her lap. Silas sat on the edge of the bed next to her, quietly speaking.

"Violet. Violet? Violet?"

Slowly, she turned her head, but she didn't speak.

Patiently, the man took her hand in his. "You got distracted for a moment, cheri. It's okay. I was explaining the doctor's instructions for keeping the burns clean, remember?"

Dark hair fell across her face as Violet tipped her head to the side. After a moment, she nodded.

June and Blackwell paused at the edge of the ward, watching in silence.

"We brought Nurse Darby here to help you with some of the burns you can't reach. Is that okay?"

Violet shrugged.

"Okay," Silas sighed and stood up. "You don't have to talk if you're not ready, Violet. Nobody's going to force you. Just...take your time."

Doctor Blackwell leaned over to June. "She's been fairly resistant to sedatives - Violet's been afraid of having nightmares. So despite our best efforts, she's definitely not operating on the recommended hours of sleep for her age. She's talking as little as possible, but whether that's related to her experiences or not isn't clear. When she's aboard, she's never the most talkative kid, you know? And right now - understandably - doctors and medical implements are a no-go with her."

June nodded and approached the bed slowly. "Hi, Violet. Been awhile, right? I'm going to come up to the bed, is that okay?"

After a moment, Violet looked up and croaked, "-kay."

"I'm going to listen to your heart, alright? And then I'm going to look in your eyes and ears, just like checkups when you were little. Just to make sure we didn't miss anything, okay?"

Silas stood up to get out of the way, and Violet shot out a hand to catch his wrist.

"No needles," she whispered.

"No, no needles. Just a light and a stethoscope."

"Stay here, okay?" Violet tried to tighten her grip, but her hands had begun to shake. "Dad, stay here, stay here, okay?"

Silas reacted as if he'd been struck. Violet had only called him "dad" a few times since he'd taken her in, and they were usually not intentional - or, so she often claimed. The girl was definitely looking for reassurance, and by heaven he wasn't going to deny her that.

"I'm here, shh, you're doing fine, Vi," he whispered, sitting back down. "You're doing great."

June ran a quick check over the girl's general health, then examined the healing process of the burns. "So Violet," she said conversationally, "Did you know that ducks' feet don't have nerves or blood vessels?"

When Violet turned her head to give her an incredulous look, June quickly pulled away the bandage she hadn't been letting Doctor Blackwell touch and began reapplying the burn ointment. "I'm not even kidding. It's so they can walk on snow and ice or paddle in cold water without it hurting them."

"Weird," Violet muttered.

"Right?" June's eyes twinkled for a moment.

Armed with a host of bizzare facts and bits of trivia, June managed to distract the young teenager long enough to change all the bandages without so much as a tear from her patient. As she went to wash her hands, she found herself in quiet conversation with Doctor Blackwell and Silas.

"Right now, I think if you can distract her when you need to do medical things, that may make it easier to help her," she whispered. "Do you have a counselor on board? I recommend this for all ages, - and not just for trauma - but for young people especially. She needs to talk to someone about what she went through."

Silas nodded slowly. "We have two people, but their schedules fill up fast, and everyone's pulling double duty these days. But I know someone on-shore who's pretty good at talking people through things. For now we'll just do our best and handle the burns and nightmares, but as soon as we get the chance, I'll take her to see my old friend."

"Good," June said softly. "Just give her time to heal, make sure to pay attention if something is triggering an adverse reaction of any kind."

"I'll give her as much time as she needs," Silas promised.


When Miko saw the nanites, she bolted.

After signing, Bug! I don't want bugs in my head! several times in succession, she'd taken off like a shot from the table. Unfortunately, she was too small to reach the door controls, and instead spent at least two minutes running in circles, avoiding Knock Out.

"Agh! Will you quit—no, come back here!"

Eventually, slender servos closed around the thrashing, kicking twelve year old. "They're not bugs, Miko, now settle down!"

Stubbornly, the girl clamped her hands over her ears and hunched down with a rebellious look.

"Oh for the love of—Soundwave, will you please do something about your human?" Knock Out growled, arms akimbo. The spy shrugged and bent over, lifting Frenzy from the cold floor and depositing the one-eyed Minicon onto the berth beside Miko.

"I wanna hold your ha-a-a-a-and," his radio crooned cheerfully. Frenzy bobbed his helm in understanding and tried to pull Miko's arms down.

"Ooh, she stuck good!" the small mech commented, tugging gently. Once her hands were away from her ears, Frenzy wrapped his arms around hers in a straight-jacket hold.

"Remember — her nerves - process lowfrequency—sounds," Soundwave arranged his long limbs onto the bench around his deployer and his human, providing a comforting presence for them both.

It scarcely surprised him that one so young had a distrust of the doctor's office. Honestly, who actually liked going to the doctor's? And seeing that Miko had been living in a hospital ward while surgeons were tied up with richer patients, she surely couldn't have any love for the cold, sterile smell of a clinic.

Knock Out crouched and attempted to code all of his words into short bursts of low tones. "These are nanites, Miko. They help fix Cybertronians when we get hurt or sick. Everyone has them, even Junebug and Pax!" The girl leaned her head to the side to rest on top of Frenzy's.

They're like white blood cells? Her fingers had a difficult time spelling whilst in Frenzy's grip, but Knock Out got the message.

"You know what? They pretty much are! Now, I'm just going to put a few on your ears, and they're going to run a diagnostic on your eardrums, to show us if there's anything we can do to make a Cybertronian-style hearing aid that works best for you. No surgery, no tampering with what's already in there, just building some support gear."

Frenzy squeaked in surprise, mandibles clicking rapidly.

"How they do dat?" he exclaimed, tightening his grip.

Soundwave's servos wrapped around the pair of them, gently loosening his grasp a bit. Gentle , Frenzy, gentle. he remonstrated.

Miko flinched and squeezed her eyes shut as the nanites swarmed into her ears and tried not to think about the old urban legends about earwigs. Stupid Esquivels for telling that tale at lunch! It didn't hurt, at least. And surprisingly, it wasn't itchy. She'd been afraid it would itch terribly, but she didn't feel a thing.

Knock Out leaned back against a table and dimmed his optics, all his attention focused on sending and receiving signals to and from his nanites. "Sound is just varying pressures in the air," he murmured. "If we can boost the strength the little canal of nerves the vibrations cross, the signals should reach her brain like they're supposed to."

One particular cluster of data reached his processor and startled him. "Oh. Well that's a bit trickier then."

Soundwave leaned forward expectantly, eerie blue visor glinting under the bright lights. The medic turned to his computers to type rapidly.

"Apparently, most of those nerves have been completely removed. Either that, or they weren't there to begin with. I...to be fair, human anatomy isn't my strongest suit, but I didn't know that was even possible. That's... that's problematic." He tapped his denta for a moment before his optics brightened and he held a servo in the air like a lecturing professor. "New plan for the support gear! My nanites shape themselves to take the place of her nerves, instead of just mimicking the shape of a hearing aid or cochlear implant."

Miko made a dismayed face and scrambled back as far as she could despite Frenzy's embrace, biting her lip. I can't take them out?

Long ivory servos rose before her eyes to sign out, Think of it like an implant. You'll technically be part Cybertronian, too!

Reluctantly, the little girl conceded that it was kind of a cool thought. But they still looked like bugs.

"Now to field test!" Knock Out declared. Quickly, he sent a series of commands to the tiny nanites, reprogramming them to behave like human nerves. The miniscule bots wrapped together into long strands, connecting the eardrum to the brain in complex webs.

"Miko," the CMO covered his mouth and whispered, "Can you hear me?"

Eyes wide, she signed, I heard something, but I'm not sure what. Very loud.

The scarlet mech nodded and remotely adjusted the nanite clusters. "To be expected. This isn't going to work all at once, you know. It'll take a day or two, I imagine." He made a few extra command programs and sent them to the nanites. "I'm programming them to automatically adjust volume when it enters your ears, so that you don't experience any pain while adjusting to things. Let me know if there's any discomfort, or if you want them to work differently."

Carefully, Frenzy released his human friend, who was rubbing her temples with a somewhat perturbed expression. Bright brown eyes turned upward to gaze at her guardian.

Should I practice talking out loud?

Soundwave shrugged and signed back, Not if you don't want to. If you're more comfortable talking like this, then don't feel like you need to change.

Beside them, Frenzy pouted and tugged his brother's arm. "I no can read hands with one optic! Not fair, Big Bro, not fair!"

Knock Out patted the deployer on the helm comfortingly and moved back to his kiosk. "Replacement optics take time to build, Frenzy. Just be patient, and we'll have it constructed in three to four weeks. We ought to work on your language acquisition packets in the meantime as well, young 'Con."

Miko's head turned so quickly that her pigtails hit the small mech in the faceplate with a swish and a thwack. She snorted and covered her mouth. Whoa, Doc. Is that your voice? You sound nothing like I thought you would!

Knock Out wasn't sure if that was a positive thing or not. The giggle pointed towards negative.


Airachnid sat in the center of a web of her own making, watching the hailstorm from the corner of the hangar ceiling. Somewhere down in Jasper, the humans would be scurrying for shelter, and unless the Autobots were exceptionally stupid, they would too.

A bitter shard of her spark found herself wishing that some of them would be dumb enough to be caught in the downpour. The outer landing deck was covered in white, as if it were snowing. Somewhere below her, a door swished open.

"Mom?" it was June.

"Up here, Sweetspark," the spider-femme murmured.

The human woman paused beneath the web and looked up, arms wrapped around her middle.

"Hey."

Airachnid smiled down at her daughter. "Hey yourself." She rotated easily and reached down to lift the woman up to sit beside her. With a soft groan, June settled herself in close to Airachnid's side and leaned her head against the femme's armor.

"Did you really see John?"

One ebony and violet arm snaked around to wrap June in a gentle embrace. "I'm sorry, darling, I did. They're calling him Liaison now."

June shut her eyes and furrowed her brow. There was still a part of her that cared for John Darby, even felt affection for him. But their paths had diverged long ago, and there was clearly no reconciliation to be had.

"Does he know?" she whispered.

Her mother tightened her grip, wordlessly answering the question.

"Oh Primus," June whispered, more prayer than profanity, "what am I going to tell Jack?"

Sharp servos touched her face, turning it to face glowing purple optics. "You tell him the same thing we told you: family is more than the energon in your veins."

June bit her lip. "But what if he wants to go looking for his father?"

Airachnid shook her helm and laughed. "He's smarter than that! Pax has always had your father and Lord Megatron to teach him how to be a man. He doesn't need Liaison, and he knows it."

The webbing hummed and vibrated as June shifted uncomfortably. "Can you blame me for worrying?" she muttered.

At this, Airachnid laughed again and ran her servos through the long black hair. "No, no, I can't. You picked that up from me, dear."

Mother and daughter fell into a comfortable silence in the web, watching as the storm slowed and the hail gradually stopped falling.

"It's been so long between attacks, I'd almost forgotten that we were at war," the human broke the silence first, drawing her knees to her chest. "But then Skywarp—" she broke off and shut her eyes again.

"I know," Airachnid sighed. It was perverse, she decided, how the first casualty in five years had to be her daughter's best friend, and Starscream's last link to the safety of a Trine bond. Oh, the Seeker hadn't quite lost his processor or anything, like old rumors said those with broken Trine bonds would, but she suspected that was a mixture of the rumors being just that: rumors, and Megatron making him look after Sierra. On the other servo, if Skywarp had not gone to investigate that energon reading, had not been murdered and experimented upon, the Decepticons would never have known about dark energon and Optimus Prime's return until it was altogether too late. A blessing in the midst of a storm, as it were.

"Megatron says that everything happens for a reason," the spider-femme said, looking up into the clearing clouds. "This time, I think I'd have to agree with him. Skywarp saved our lives, in his own way."

Gracefully, she stepped down out of the web and held her arms up for her daughter. June made a face, wiping away tears.

"Mom," she chuckled, "I'm thirty-four years old! You don't have to carry me!"

Protests were ignored as she was pulled down from the web and carried out onto the deck. "Pshaw! Still a sparkling!"

They paused on the open flight deck and June climbed down, her feet squeaking and crunching among the balls of ice.

"The sun is coming out," she remarked.

Airachnid raised an eyebrow and shaded her optics. "Yes," she agreed, "It is."


Among the Decepticons, Megatron was the ultimate authority. In exile from a corrupted Cybertron, they no longer recognized the Dynasty of the Primes—something Megatron deeply regretted, for he could remember stories of a time when they were not evil, a time when Nova Prime led journeys of exploration into nearly every corner of the galaxy.

For a period, however short-lived it had been, he had once hoped that his childhood friend Orion Pax might one day follow in Nova's footsteps.

A scowl marred his peaceful faceplates as he paced his chambers in bitter reminiscence. Orion would have led as Nova had done, though he would have been just as content to roll about the streets of downtown Iacon with Megatron and Ariel, playing at knights and heroes as they had always done. Of course, the heir of Sentinel Prime was not permitted to consort with lower-caste mechs and femmes, but since when had Orion ever done as Sentinel ordered? It was part of the reason he had secured Megatron his job as a teacher—the very same job that led the future Decepticon to meeting Knock Out, Breakdown, Airachnid, and the Trine.

Megatron's steps halted and servos twitched as he debated with himself whether or not he truly wanted to peruse these memories. What purpose could it serve but to remind him what had been lost and what could never be regained?

Our memories help make us who we are, Brother. The half-forgotten words sprang to his mind unbidden, as if in answer to his doubts.

"Ironic," he spoke aloud in answer to the memory, "as you no longer remember anything about your past save for that which Alpha Trion deemed appropriate to a Prime."

Megatron winced as he recalled the day that his one-time friend had become Prime, when Trion had decided that Sentinel was becoming old and weak, and had terminated him in cold energon. Orion had been in the school with Megatron that day, introducing himself to Starscream, Skywarp, and Thundercracker.

He had been in high spirits, Megatron remembered, joking that if his old friend had gone and become a Sire, he wanted to be the crazy uncle. The guards had come without warning, pulling them apart and dragging the young teacher away. They had taken him to the gladiatorial pits in Kaon—it was the last time he ever saw Orion Pax. When next they met, in his place stood the ruthless Optimus Prime.

Perhaps he could have stemmed the casualties of the War, had he not been reluctant to injure the one he had called his brother. There had been times over the centuries, he reflected, when it had almost seemed as though a part of Orion's spark still fought to be heard, to stop the madness.

But then, it could have been no more than wishful thinking on his part. One day, he knew, he would kill Optimus or Optimus would kill him. And there would be no comfort, no comfort when the energon ran in streams over his servos and optics flickered out, leaving the dying one in utter blackness until at last the spark was extinguished and the armor faded to gunmetal grey. The younger ones would rejoice—of course they would, they did not know the truth behind the longest-standing battle since Primus and Unicron. How could he tell them?

Megatron groaned and lowered his heavy frame to a spartan berth jutting from the wall. He stood as a symbol to his people, a leader, a voice of wisdom—even a father-figure to some—yet who would council the councilor? When his spark weighed heavy in its chamber and the scars of a thousand battles pained him, who could Megatron seek for guidance? Suddenly weary, the warlord sank back against the hull and laid his hand over his spark.

"Everything happens for a reason," he whispered, optics unfocused and hazy. "I know this to be true. Yet...I wish at times that You would make that reason known to me."

He knew what had to be done, though his spark rebelled at the thought: he would have to face Optimus Prime and stop him from summoning his tainted army, else the whole of Earth was in jeopardy. He could not afford to think on happier times when he took to the battlefield again. This time there could be only one outcome.

One would stand, one would fall.