Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Transformers. I just play with them. I only own my OC's.

Time:

Astro-second = 1.258 Earth seconds

1 nanocycle/nanoklik = 10 seconds

1 cycle/klik = 60 nanocycles/nanokliks 120 seconds

Breem = 15 kliks 30 minutes

1 joor = 1.3 Earth days

Solar cycle/orn = 24 joor 31.557 Earth days

Vorn = 10 orn

Groon = 8 vorn

Orbital cycle = 12 groon 83 human years

Deca-cycle = 10 orbital cycles

Centi-cycle/Mega cycle = 100 orbital cycles

Meta cycle = 1,000 orbital cycles

Communication:

:: comm. link ::

- Bondmates/sparkmates -

~: creator/creation bond :~

: sibling bond :

~ spark twin bond ~

Thoughts/memories/flashbacks/dreams

[symbiot/symbiot carrier]

Seeker Cant


The next morning, the dust storm was in full swing; howling like there's no tomorrow. Jazz wasn't able to get a signal through to the Autobot base. Bladestream said that that was a good thing, the storm would also block any Con signals as well. Oh, well, Jazz thought. He would just have to roll with it.

After morning energon, Jazz gathered with the siblings to a back room to discuss the game plan to get the group to Iacon. He placed a holodisk on the round table in the center of the room. He onlined it and a global map of Cybertron was pulled up.

"We are here," he said, pointing to the Sea of Rust. It was a huge desert. "Darkmount is in the west and Polyhex is to the east an' a bit north. Polyhex is Autobot territory. Once we hit Polyhex, ah can get us a shuttle to take us to Iacon, the Autobot capital. Kaon is deeper in Decepticon territory. We head west, we will encounter Cons. East is our best chance. All we need is to be a few kliks from the city border an' we can get backup."

"About how many orn away from Polyhex are we?" Bladestream asked.

"About a four orn's drive, if we put metal tah the petal. We are already ahead of the Cons, so we should be able tah get there before the Cons find us."

"What if they catch up to us?" Jetstorm asked, knowing the reputation Cons had at arriving on the scene first."

"We'll deal with it when it we get there. Our training should be able to stall the Cons long enough for help to arrive."

"Yah brother's right. As long as they don't use a signal jammer, we're good."

"Alright then. As soon as the storm lets up, we'll leave. Wing Saber, when do you think the storm will end?"

Wing Saber looked down and moved her wings in jerky movements. Her optics darted back and forth with her wings. After about a klik, she looked up at Bladestream. "I think we have about three to four orn at least. I think we should leave before that, though. I can sense the direction of the sun, so we can leave while the dust storm is tapering off and get a head start."

"But the problem with that is the dust will get into our gears and make movement painful and less fluid. It would be better to wait."

"Ah second that." Jazz said, raising his servo in the air.

Bladestream looked around the room to the others, asking for their opinion over the bond.

Jetstorm shrugged. "I think it would be better to wait."

Wind Dancer nodded.

"I'd rather not be cleaning rust out of my gears as much as possible. No, no, and no." Stardust said, waving her arms in front of her in time with her "no's".

"Ahlright then. We'll leave for Polyhex the nanoklik this storm lets up." said Jazz as he deactivated the holo. The siblings went to the training room while Jazz decided to go pay the medic, Razorblade, a visit.

Upon entering the medbay, Razorblade seemed to be downloading files onto a datapad. The old Con turned and looked at him. "Greetin's, Autobot. What kin I help ya with?"

"Ah was wondering if you could tell meh more about the younglings." said Jazz, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Well, there ain't much more ta tell, really. They already told ya their tale. They were organic sentient bein's kidnapped from their home world an' brought ta Shockwave wit tens o' thousands o' others to be turned intah super soldiers fer Lord Megatron's army. The project failed. As fah as we know, they are the only survivers. Bladestream led their escape an' they fled ta this here Sea of Rust. They were here fir a time befir Commanders Dreadwing an' Skyquake come along.

"Wing Saber was going through 'er Primal Heat at the time. If those two hadn't showed up, Wing Saber not be fairin' no better than Commander Starscream. Stuck between a young 'un and an adult … a fledgling fer the rest o' 'er life cycle. Unable ta bear sparklin's. She wants ta be a carrier more 'n anythin'. It woulda broken 'er spark. Primus sent those to at the right time fer these youn' uns ta survive.

"A few groon later, Commander Dreadwing brought me an' Quickstrike 'ere ta take care o' them. A few groon after that, you show up." Razorblade said, gesturing to Jazz.

"Can ya tell meh about their abilities?"

Razorblade nodded. "I kin tell ya that without upsettin' my download fer the Autobot CMO." He turned to the computer and pulled up the siblings' profiles. Jazz came over to Razorblade's side. The old Con pulled up Wind Dancer's profile first.

"Wind Dancer. Race: Seeker. Approximate age: 120 meta-cycles. Alt mode: high altitude jet. Weapons: light whip/stingers. Abilities: shape shifter. Can shift into any animal her current mass or smaller.

"Jetstorm. Race: Seeker. Approximate age: 150 meta-cycles. Alt mode: high altitude jet. Weapons: bladed blasters. Abilities: able to make an identical clone of himself for a short period of time. Clone can be controlled and used for reconnaissance, yet is quite fragile.

"Stardust. Race: Seeker. Approximate age: 200 meta-cycles. Alt mode: emergency jet. Weapons: blasters/arm blades. Abilities: healer. Can heal most injuries, but can be squeamish.

"Bladestream. Race: Seeker, has triplechanger mods. Age: 220 meta-cycles. Alt mode: mid altitude jet/heavy tank. Weapons: unknown, walking armory. Abilities: spark cloaking, speed, superior physical strength, strength of will; bruiser. Mild telepathy; needs training

"Wing Saber. Race: Seeker. Age: 240 meta-cycles. Alt mode: high altitude jet. Weapons: unknown. Abilities: unknown. Heightened senses, empathic."

"Wait," said Jazz, "Wing Saber doesn't have any special powers? Or weapons? Ah saw her use a bow."

"That was an external weapon. Wing Saber's frame is making its own weapons within 'er weapon holds. No one is sure what they are. As fer the powers, she has none. Now she does have extremely keen senses. Her senses are about ten times as strong as those o' yer average bot. That's why she can't handle much sun light. It hurts 'er optics. She has to take the night watch. She kin also see well in the dark. She kin feel an' hear thin's no one else kin.

"She is also a strong empath. She kin feel the emotions and feelin's o' others. It's part o' the reason she's so quiet. And that she doesn't train wit 'er siblin's much. She can't handle the stimuli.

"One thin' I have noticed is that 'er frame stores energy. It's like she's a walkin' power house. She's constantly havin' ta take stasis naps throughout the orn 'cause 'er frame's storin' energy. Can't figure out why."

Razorblade's datapad beeped. He disconnected it from his computer and handed it to Jazz.

"I want ya ta make sure this makes it to your CMO. Only the Prime and the CMO kin access this here datapad. Do not let the Deceptions git this. I didn't come 'ere just ta have these young 'uns land in Lord Megatron's grasp." Razorblade said, his faceplates serious for the first time.

"Ya have meh word." said Jazz, taking the pad.

"Now git. I've got work ta do." he said, turning his back to Jazz.

Jazz subspaced the datapad and left the medbay. He now understood why Wing Saber's gaze felt like it could run him through. And why Bladestream looked like he could have been built for the Pits of Kaon. He had seen them train last night. They were good. Especially when you consider the time frame they had to get this far.

He decided to head to the training room to speak with Quickstrike when he felt hostile, angry EM fields through the wall. He heard clanging and turned down a hall to investigate.

He saw Wind Dancer standing at the doorway of a room peaking inside. Her faceplates were filled with concern and her wings couldn't seem to decide how they wanted to hang. One wing was high with tension and the other low with nervousness.

Jazz approached and peaked inside. The sight inside confused him. Wing Saber and Stardust were obviously arguing about something; their wings were high, their armor was flared and their fields were charged with anger, but no verbal words were exchanged. Their servos were making signals back and forth to each other in rapid succession. He understand wings enough (part of his job is to spy of Con Seekers) to know that Stardust was refusing to do something Wing Saber asked, but he couldn't make out the details on what it was.

"What's goin' on, lil' lady?" Jazz asked Wind Dancer.

She shook her head. "Wing Saber asked Stardust to help her make something for tonight for Shabbat and Stardust doesn't really want to. Wing Saber asked her to get the powdered energon so she could shape the Challah bread and Stardust thinks that she should use oil, but oil doesn't work right. This is what happens when Stardust doesn't listen to Wing Saber or Bladestream. It becomes a fight."

"Is this a regular thing?" Jazz asked.

Wind Dancer nodded. "Almost every orn. She just wants to do things her way. She thinks her way is right even if she's wrong. So she argues."

There was a bang that caused the pair to look back at the two femmes and Wing Saber was gesturing for Stardust to leave the room. Her wings broadcasted that she had had enough. Stardust huffed and with her chin held high, she left the room.

Jazz looked at Stardust, back to Wind Dancer, then to Wing Saber. She was still fuming. He walked over to her and leaned against the counter. He watched as she divided, rolled, and folded the sticky mass that looked like sparkling molding putty. After a few kliks of silence, he decided to speak.

"So, what happened ju- "

"I don't wanna discuss it, Jazz. Leave it be."

Oookay. Typical femme. Although there was a hint of hurt in her voice and her optics looked like they were threatening to leak. He glanced at her wings. They were vibrating with restrained emotion. If there wasn't a severe dust storm, he'd tell her to go out for a flight. It always seemed to calm the Aerialbots down. An emotional Seeker was never a good thing and from what he had seen from Ironhide's mate, Chromia, neither was an emotional femme. He did not want to see an emotional Seeker femme was like anytime soon. Need to find a different topic. She'll probably talk about it later once she'd cooled off.

He watched as she took six long, thin rods of the putty-like mass and begin to braid them.

"Whacha doin'?"

She looked at him then back to her work. Making Challah bread."

"What's that?"

"It's a type of food my race would cook. Our God, Yahweh, commanded His chosen people, called the Jews, to work for six orn, but to rest on the seventh orn; just as He did when He made the universe. The orn begins and ends with the setting of our planet's sun. All work that can be done before then should be done and that orn be devoted to worshiping Yahweh and celebrating His goodness.

"I forget why the Jews make Challah bread for the seventh day meal, but I do remember that this bread is typically made with the dough divided into two piles; with each of those divided into six smaller piles. Then you take six piles and roll them out into long strands and braid those six strands together. You do this with the other six strands."

As she explained this, she divided and braided the second pile of "dough".

"The Jews were divided into 12 tribes. These tribes were the descendants of the sons of a man (male human) named Jacob, whom Yahweh renamed Israel. Israel had 12 sons, one of which was his favorite and the others were jealous. That favorite one was one day sold by his brothers and the sire was made to think that his favorite son was killed by wild animals.

"The favorite son was taken to a faraway land and sold to a man of high rank. His mate liked the son and kept trying to get him into her berth, but the favorite son, named Joseph, refused. She eventually set him up so that it looked like he forced himself onto her. Her mate believed her. Joseph was through into prison. Years later, he found favor in the optics of that country's ruler and he was placed as second-in-command of the ruler. He saved the country from a years-long famine and in turn, saved the surrounding nations and his family.

"When it came for the sire to die and divide his wealth to his sons, he had to take away the firsborn's inheritance and he gave it to Joseph's two sons."

"Yah said there were 12 tribes, right? I count 13. Did the firstborn get kicked out or something?"

"No, one of the sons was appointed as a priest and so when Yahweh moved the sons' descendants into the land He had promised their foresires, the descendants of that sons became priests as well. They were spread throughout the country rather than given their own tribal land. Joseph didn't have his own tribe. Instead, his sons had tribes due to the firstborn birthright; the double portion.

"So in the Challah bread, each strand of dough represents the 12 tribes of Israel. At least, that's what I remember. I was not a Jew. Neither were my family members. Our faith was based off the Jews' Messiah, their redeemer. However, the original identity of the Messiah was stolen over the years and soon, the Messiah was made out to be the God of another religion all together.

"My family was trying to get back to the Jewish roots. This included celebrating Shabbat, the seventh day. Since I could cook, and the Jews make this bread for Shabbat, my carrier asked that I make it."

"But how can ya make organic fuel with energon an' Cybertronian metals an' nutrients?"

"With Yahweh's guidance." She said, placing a large box over the braided dough and heading for the washracks.

"Powdered energon acts just like flour from my world. If you mix flour with water or oil, you'll get a sticky mixture that's hard to get out of your gears and it's much worse if it dries. I will typically go outside and dust myself off and then head to the washracks cause this powdery stuff itches, but …" a goofy grin spread across her faceplates, "because of the storm outside, I havta do this the hard way!" her wings fluttered, causing powdered energon to fly off like dust.

He followed her to the washracks. He noticed that there were two of them; one for mech and one for femmes. Just as she was about to open to door for the femme's washracks, he asked if she needed help getting washed.

"Nah. Getting flour outta your gears doesn't really need two bots. If I need help, I'll call Wind Dancer. She has tiny digits. And her digits will be smaller than yours 'cause she's a femme." Wing Saber said with an almost teasing grin. Her optics had a different message, though. She did not want him there.

"Ok, ok. Ah can't go intah the femmes' washracks anyway." He said, walking off to find Quickstrike.


Once Jazz left, Wing Saber entered the washracks with her wings low. She hated fighting with her sister, but she could never get anything through her thick helm. She felt like she was going in circles whenever she tried to teach Stardust anything.

Or correct her. God forbid anyone who tried to correct Stardust. Correction was rejection in her processor. That went for Bladestream, too. Stardust's arguments were so illogical that Razorblade had to tell him that he needed to start walking away from those arguments or else his processor would crash on him. It happened once and Razorblade started to pay attention and look for the reason why.

Razorblade observed many fights between Stardust and the others. When he decided to scan Stardust's CPU for glitches, he found a few, but he could do nothing about it out here in the desert. All he could do was tell Wing Saber and Bladestream to be patient until the Autobot medics could look into it. They had better equipment and access to medical treatment.

Stardust tried to get sympathy from Quickstrike, but the old bot was smarter and much more perceptive than anyone gave him credit for. He nipped her game of "woe is me" and manipulation in the aft and she never talked with him about her issues again.

Oh, Stardust, if only you would just listen to me. Both our lives would have a lot less heartache, Wing Saber thought.

She felt a door slam shut in her spark. Her optics widened for a nanoklik before she closed them and placed her forehelm against the washracks wall. Stardust had been the first to discover how to close off a bond and she did it frequently. Wing Saber still to this orn could not close any bond she had with her siblings. She never wanted to know how either. Dreadwing and Skyquake tried to teach her how, but it brought on a lot of pain and it was very draining on her, so she stopped trying.

Wing Saber turned on the solvent and just let the oil and cleaners run down her wings and backplates. She sighed. She felt lonely. She always did when the twins were not here. It was a very different loneliness than she was used to feeling. Sometimes it got so bad, her spark started to ache. Wing Saber first felt this a few months before the left Earth. She could never figure out what it was about nor the source of it. And this feeling was coming more and more frequently.

She shook her helm and took the spray nozzle off the wall and began to try to spray the energon flour off her frame and out of her gears.


Jazz could never get over watching the siblings train. They had amazing potential. Quickstrike was training them to be able to take on squads of Cons at once. Out on the battlefield, they would always be outnumbered.

Jazz found little Wind Dancer's training simulations to be the most entertaining to watch. She could shapeshift into glitchmice and other tiny, tiny critters, some of which he had never seen before. She would be a great spy when she got older. He smiled as he remembered one of his spies, Bumblebee, when he was that age. Jazz had training Bumblebee from when he was real little. Although Ironhide raised the youngling, it was Jazz who taught him to be the spy he was; and he was one of the best, too.

Jetstorm was a bit of a loose cannon who relied on his cloning ability too much. He always went for the big guns and most of these were too large for him to handle properly. And his aim was scattered. Quickstrike kept making him put up the cannons, but Jetstorm just kept coming right back to them. Ironhide would love this kid, Jazz thought.

Stardust was working on her flexibility. The poor femme had next to none. She needed more flexibility in combat. But Stardust was a healer, not a soldier. Oh, well. She did need to be able to defend herself.

Bladestream had skill beyond his years. He was taking out drone after training drone so fast, it rivaled the work of some frontliners he knew. He could take down mobs of bots. What surprised him was that Bladestream would occasionally remove pieces of his armor and these pieces were actually weapons. Razorblade wasn't kidding when his notes said Bladestream was a walking armory.

When Bladestream finished with the last drones, Quickstrike called for a break. As the siblings dispersed to the coolant and energon, Wing Saber walked in. She walked up to Bladestream and they began to converse.

That's when he realized that Wing Saber was a bit stockier than her sisters. She did not have the delicate frame most femmes and Seeker carriers had. It was interesting.

After about a breem, Quickstrike ran the siblings through agility courses. It was more of a race than anything else, really.

"You know the drill. When the gun sounds, get to the flag and get your designation on the board. No alt modes, no weapons, no powers. Avoid contact with the enemy."

He stepped aside and transformed his hand into a blaster. The siblings' fields were alight with excitement and they seemed to be throwing jabs at each other across their bonds.

Quickstrike fired his gun into the air and the siblings took off. He tried to watch them, but the holograms of the obstacle course kept abstracting his view. Quickstrike waved him over to watch them on a set of monitors.

He came over and watched so the Seekers made their way through. Wing Saber had quickly taken the lead. She also liked to drop to her servos and pedes and would run like a cyberwolf, keeping her wings folded tightly against her backplates. Running on all fours gave her an edge over her siblings. Now her sisters liked to run like a cyberwolf, too, but neither one of them were as good nor as fluid as she was.

Wing Saber was the first one to make it to the halfway mark. Then the enemies started to come out and rain fire upon her. She was able to dodge their shots and escape unscaved.

Bladestream was close behind her. He took out some of his enemies while he ran, but he had to do so using everything but his powers and weapons.

Wind Dancer and Jetstorm often fought for third. Stardust was dead last. After a while, Jetstorm got tangled in hanging cables and Stardust was able to pull ahead.

He heard a buzzer go off. He looked up to find Wing Saber at the top of a rock wall and the glyph of her designation up on a large screen. Her wings were erect with pride as Bladestream climbed after her and hit his buzzer. Wind Dancer and Stardust took third and fourth with Jetstorm bringing up the rear.

Quickstrike deactivated the holograms and large pillars and other solid obstacles retreated into the floor. He praised Wing Saber's performance and corrected Bladestream's choice of taking out the enemies. He scolded the other three on this or that. Then he led them to a large fighting ring. He had the Seekers practice servo-to-servo combat for a long time. He would have them fight him one by one and those who weren't sparring with him were practicing on their own.

Jazz shook his helm. Considering how these guys started with little knowledge of combat before coming here and how little time it took to get them this far, they were going to be a huge asset in the war. Little did he know that the newsparks would never join either side.


The Cybertronian sun was soon going to set. If he remembered correctly, what Wind Saber called "Shabbat" would begin as soon as the sun set. Quickstrike was shutting the training room down and Razorblade was cleaning the medbay. Other chores were underway, but Wing Saber was nowhere to be found. He was told that she was recharging. What puzzled him was that she shouldn't need to recharge this late. Razorblade had to explain that the young femme's frame needed to recharge often like a sparkling. It had something to do with conserving energy. The old medic just couldn't figure out why. He had no idea what Shockwave had done to the poor femme.

He found Bladestream and asked why the dwelling was being cleaned like and officer was coming to inspect it. Bladestream answered that on Shabbat, there would be no work except the necessary ornly maintenance. All work had to be done this orn. Next orn, there would be no training or work. It was a time to rest and enjoy Yahweh's blessings. It was also a time to praise and worship Him. Shabbat applied to everyone in the dwelling. It was not a ritual to be observed or else. Yes, it was commanded that they observe Shabbat, but blessings come to those who observe it out of a willing and joyful spark. His family celebrated Shabbat because they loved Yahweh.

Jazz went to his quarters and thought about how devoted these Seekers seemed towards their God. Before the war, he had seen loyalty in the Priests of Primus, but not like this. The siblings had a different emotion towards their God altogether. It didn't make sense.

About a joor later, Jetstorm came and got Jazz. The siblings along with Quickstrike and Razorblade had all gathered in the main room. On the center table, there were two tall wax candles, a loaf of the now finished Shabbat bread, and eight small cubes of a purplish energon. Wing Saber stood by the candles with Bladestream at her side. Jetstorm tried to stir up play, but Bladestream quickly silenced him.

Wing Saber picked up a small torch and turned it on, lighting the candles. As she did, she spoke in what was probably her native language. Once she placed the torch down, she lifted her faceplates to the ceiling and continued to speak in this primitive tongue.

As Wing Saber spoke, Jazz felt a sort of heavy presence enter the room. He saw Quickstrike and Razorblade bow their helms in respect out of the corner of his optic. He looked back at Wing Saber. She had stopped speaking. She looked at the others around the table and said something. Then she repeated it in Iaconian, "May the Lord bless you and keep you, may the Lord make His face to shine upon you and be gracious to you. May the Lord lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace."

Bladestream picked up the bread, closed his optic, lifted his faceplates to the ceiling, and said in a load voice, "Blessed are You, the Lord our God, King of the Universe, who brings forth bread from the earth."

He broke off pieces of the bread and passed it out to those gathered. Jazz saw them eat the bread and he followed suit. He wasn't too sure what to think of the texture. It had a bit of a sweet taste to it. He still wondered how Wing Saber made this stuff. And how she gathered the ingredients.

Bladestream was moving on. He picked up two of the cubes and did the same with these as he did with the bread. "Blessed are You, the Lord our God, King of the Universe, Creator of the fruit of the vine."

This got smirks and giggles from the siblings. Jazz knew that there were types of energon that grew in crystal form, but it was usually a good idea to touch them with bare servos. Some types had such a high concentration of energy in them that touching them could numb your circuits.

Bladestream said nothing and passed out the small cubes. When Jazz tasted his, it almost tasted like sparkling energon, but it had a different flavor. He couldn't place what it was.

The siblings then sang some songs in their native tongue. Bladestream then looked at everyone, clasped his servos and said, "Alright, let's eat!"

"Refuel," Wing Saber corrected, as everyone sat and drank regular energon.

The rest of the night cycle went uneventful, with the heavy presence still hanging around.

The presence was still there in the morning. What was unusual, was that it seemed to be guarding the place. Now he knew why Wing Saber didn't go to her post last night. This presence was doing the guarding.

Come to think of it, this presence was probably why the Megatron hadn't found the Seekers yet. Their God was preventing it from happening.

Jazz's thoughts took a wind turn. Maybe, just maybe, the Seekers weren't kidnapped at random, but were allowed to be brought here for a reason. The specific reason eluded Jazz. It was be something to ask Prowl. Maybe his battle computer could find a possible solution. Or maybe they'll never know.

Either way, Wing Saber said the storm might die out tonight. They would need to be ready to leave at a moment's notice.

Jazz decided to get some recharge now before they left. Recharge was impossible last night with the siblings singing and praying (they explained that speaking to their God was called prayer) and that presence.

Jazz's last thoughts as recharge finally claimed his frame was of how strange these newsparks were.


Another chapter finished! And my music textbook for music appreciation decided it was a good idea to disappear. Had to buy a new one and hope it comes Sunday before my online lesson is due. If I had had that thing, this chapter would have waited until tomorrow.

As I stated in the first chapter, if any of the content in this chapter offends you and you HAVE to tell me about it, DO NOT post your comment in the review. PM me instead. No one needs to see your flames. Thank you.

Next time, our Seekers follow Jazz to Polyhex and Megatron discovers where they have been hiding.