17. Daring

Forwards Time Skip - Tarn, Cybertron

Looking back, he couldn't see how it had happened. The battle had been going so well. Sure, they'd taken heavy casualties and the remains of Tarn had been pretty much wiped off the face of Cybertron, but the Decepticons had taken a heavy beating too, and Sideswipe was sure that he had heard their call for retreat. It had been great right up to the point where he realized that they had no way off the roof of the last standing building.

"Fragging bucket-humpers!" Sunny, of course. He ducked back down of what was left of the landing pad as a new barrage of blaster fire arched overhead.

The Decepticons didn't stop firing. The makeshift barrier was starting to glow and get a soft from the intense heat. Sideswipe knew it wasn't going to hold much longer and even as talented as they were, he could see no way that Sunny and he would be able to make it past the 'cons to the stairwell on the far side without getting scrapped.

He shifted, trying to better position himself to lean over and take aim without losing a limb. It was hard. They had just enough room to sit in an uncomfortable crouch. To the front, beyond the jagged edge of what had been a launching pad was a very, very long drop. Off in the distance he could see flashes as the other Autobots fought off the last of the Decepticon onslaught. Sure enough, they were pushing them, driving the 'cons back.

So why the pit wasn't this bunch leaving?

"Slag sucker!" Sunny shouted.

Maybe that had something to do with it. Either way, they were fast running out of options.

"Hey, Sunny, do you still have that grappling line on you?" Sideswipe said. It would be too short. He already knew that. But if they could just cut some of the height off, they might make the rest of the fall in one piece.

"No."

Or not.

"Slaggit," Sideswipe said.

His beloved jet pack was useless. A well-aimed proton bomb had blasted right through the outer shell, melting circuitry and fusing the great, slagging mess to his armor. He was lucky it hadn't ignited the fuel tanks; he'd seen other mechs go that way and had no desire to make Sunny scrape his burnt and smoking carcass off the ground.

"Pit-spawn, rusted pile of scrap!" Sideswipe turned just in time to see Sunstreaker stand up and throw his rifle towards the cluster of jeering Decepticons and then sink back down.

"What are you doing?!" he said.

"Out of charge," Sunstreaker said.

Sideswipe's own rifle charge was low. He estimated he'd get another half of a breem out of the thing before it, too, was useless.

Both of them had to back away from the glowing barrier. The heat was so intense he could see the air rippling and felt his circuitry starting to sizzle. He'd probably boil out of his coolant before he ran out of ammo. Beside him, Sunstreaker crouched on the edge of the roof, hands against the ground to stabilize him as his back half hung out over open air.

Sideswipe looked out at the battleground below and then met optics with his brother. They didn't say anything. They didn't need to. Sunstreaker popped his wrist blades out and nodded. Sideswipe stood just enough to peer over the top of their barrier. He ducked back down before they could blow his head off.

"Five," he said. "Two big ones in the back, kind of to the left."

Sunstreaker nodded again and sidestepped over to stand next to him. Sideswipe set his rifle down, widened his stance, and cupped his hands, careful to avoid brushing the molten slag the wall behind them was fast becoming. Sunstreaker put one foot into the makeshift sling and braced himself against Sideswipe's shoulders.

"Ready?" Sideswipe said.

"Just do it."

Sideswipe grinned. "See you on the other side, bro."

And then he heaved. Sunstreaker waited until he was at the apex of Sideswipe's lift before he kicked off. Even before he could clear the barrier Sideswipe saw three shots nail him. Then Sideswipe was grabbing his rifle and diving to the side, out into the open.

Two of the Decepticons turned and he felt a searing bolt of pain rip into his left shoulder, another on his hip. He fired, aiming for the more exposed joints where their legs attached to their torsos. He saw a yellow flash—Sunny landed and whirled and a 'con screamed—and then he was scrambling forward. Another hit, again on the shoulder, and the connection to his right arm cut off and he lost his rifle.

He didn't even slow down.

The nearest 'con's optics widened and he took a step back. Sideswipe hit him with a roar. He caught him just above the spark chamber. Armor dented and something inside snapped and the 'con shrieked. Something slammed into his side. He felt burning and turned to find himself staring down the glowing tip of a cannon. He reached over, grabbed the first flailing mech and took a step back, using the momentum of the turn to lift the slagger up and slam him into his partner. They both fell out of his vision. He looked down, scanning the ground, searching, searching…

There!

He snatched up the rifle—the first 'con had dropped it when Sideswipe snapped his struts—and put a shot into the mass of moving targets. But then a proximity alarm went off and he turned his head just in time to see the massive frame of one of the bigger 'cons fill his vision.

The mech reached out; fingers clamped over Sideswipe's face. He could feel the tips digging into the plating between his face and his helmet. Gyros spun wildly and he was aware of his feet leaving the ground. He tried to reach up and shoot the slagger but another hand latched onto his forearm and squeezed. Sideswipe heard two nano-kliks of screeching alarms before something popped and plating buckled. He shouted. And then all sensation from that hand cut off, replaced with screaming, burning pain.

The 'con slammed him against the ground so hard it jolted his fuel pumps. His processor fizzed for a moment and the next thing he knew, he was looking up at the dark sky. A hand clamped onto his ankle.

Oh sl—

The roof scraped beneath him for a moment before dropping away and the world spun crazily. He saw yellow and bright, electric pink. And then he hit Sunstreaker. The two went down in a jumble of limbs and sparks as they slid across the roof, coming to a stop just a few metras from the edge.

Sideswipe lay there groaning, unable to push himself up. Beneath him, Sunny's vocalizer sputtered. Sideswipe could see that his brother was in worse shape than he was. Sunny had an entire chest panel ripped off. His inner circuitry sparked and smoked around a burnt hole where a 'con had shot him. One of his stupid sensor fins was gone, as way his right arm.

"You look like slag," he managed to say.

"Frag off," Sunny said, though most of it came out a garbled hiss.

Sideswipe tried to grin; it was hard to do with his facial plating all warped and crushed.

"You two Auto-freaks are finally going down," one of the 'cons said.

Sideswipe couldn't turn his head very far, but it was enough to see the foot right next to him. He heard two other sets of footsteps approaching. Three, total.

"We've all been waiting for this for a long time," another said.

"The great Sunstreaker, all beat up. Again. I think I'll bring your head back. It'll look great in the rec. room."

The third 'con snickered. Sideswipe could feel Sunny's growl through his chest.

That's it, you overconfident fraggers. Gloat. Just get a little closer…

"Heh. Yeah. We can have a matching set!"

"And we'll throw what's left of you back at those losers you call an army. See how they like that."

Come on…

Sideswipe was covering most of Sunstreaker, so the 'cons couldn't see his brother's hand creeping up and slipping into Sideswipe's hidden side compartment. They edged even closer. One reached out to roll Sunstreaker's foot with his own.

"I am seriously going to enjoy this."

Sunstreaker smirked. Sideswipe saw this and said, "You do that."

And then Sunny, who's remaining arm worked just fine, threw the pulse-grenade into the air and latched onto his brother, kicking both feet upwards and Sideswipe tucked himself backwards.

"What the—"

The two rolled into the stairwell right behind them just as the grenade exploded. A hot blast of air roared down after them as they fell, landed with a clang, and kept tumbling down the stairs as Sunstreaker cursed and Sideswipe laughed and the 'cons started screaming up above.

And so begins Busting Heads Week. Sorry I never got to reply to you guys individually. There's been a lot of crap going on and I just didn't have the time. That said, thank you so much for your insightful reviews. It's always a pleasure to read them.

Next chapter: Kick Ass