This chapter begins the battle for the Autobots' rescue for the little one, and it had to be divided into parts, something I hadn't planned beforehand. The entire chapter twelve was over 20 pages...I didn't want anyone to be like, O.O...Y'know. I just got off typing and didn't even notice the page numbers rackin' up. It felt short when I was typing, but...Ah well. This shouldn't be too, too long. I hope it isn't for anyone. If it is, lemme know.
I had alotta fun with this chapter, especially the battle scenes. xD I've never written alot of action before, at least not this kind, and it was new for me. I hope I did an okay job, tell me how you liked them/didn't like 'em/etc, etc.
Anyhoo, have a fun reaaddd. I'll be looking forward to your reviews and comments.
Chapter Twelve: The Battle for Bumblebee, Part I
Inside the Decepticon Base
Bumblebee's Confinement Cell: Half a Breem Later
They remained silent in the darkest corner of the chamber, stirring in the leaden quiet that had wrapped around them like a heavy cloak, bearing down on their shoulders with its great weight. Mirage remained quiet in his camouflage as he merged into the depths of the gloom, becoming the shadows themselves whilst softly stroking an uneasy Bumblebee. Tremoring whines skipped out from the little one's throat, sudden and uneven with his hitching air intakes. Fear began overtaking his molecules, one, by one, by one.
His guardian stole a glance at the invisible mechling, and he could picture tear-glazed optics staring up at him. Bumblebee longed for warmth and affectionate coos in his audios – perhaps even a cube of energon to drink down – but such things could hardly be given now. He knew that they had to stay silent, and he tried his best to, although the action soon became a great struggle. His tiny servos curled around his guardian's digits.
Mirage, on the other hand, was growing impatient with each astrosecond that clicked by. The one thing he wanted now was reinforcements, maybe even a little communication check in with Prime. But, he knew better, and sighed just as Bumblebee began to whimper again. His digits brushed. "Shhh, we have to stay quiet, little one," he informed cooingly. "Shhh…I'm here. You have no reason to be scared, okay?"
Bumblebee couldn't help it. So many thoughts ran through his processor, hording every fragment of his mind – there was Optimus, the haunting memories of his fallen brother and creators, this life or death situation he was trapped in, and the brewing massacre begging to be unleashed just right outside…
How was it possible to not be scared?
The bot hiccupped with the sound of a sob. "I'm scared," he shuddered. "I wanna go home." He curled inward and ducked his little head, crying into his knees. "…S-Scared."
The mech cupped his large servo around Bumblebee's quaking frame, tsk tsk tsking when he heard yet another shivering whimper stutter from the sparkling's vocal processors. He shook his head whilst drawing the bot against his spark chamber, watching with love-drooped optics as Bumblebee set one audio against the warm metal to listen to his spark.
Mirage smiled softly. "See? Hey, it's gonna be okay, little one," he said in a voice that barely passed as a whisper. He lifted Bumblebee closer to his mouth, cradling him in gentle fingers and hands. "You know I'm not letting those 'Cons touch you. I would never let them."
An unnerved whirr shivered out. "Never ever?"
"Yes, never ever. On no account, by no means, will I let them touch you."
Bumblebee shuddered a final time though managing a small smile, but the mech wouldn't allow it. Wide optics looked up to a kind faceplate, though seeing invisibility. He blinked in utter innocence with a tilt of his head. A voice chuckled, as if Mirage could see him, then hushed him as he whirred as the hand beneath Bumblebee's yellow bottom cupped deeper. Tender digits clawed affectionately against the little one's upper thighs and hip compartments.
"Please understand that," Mirage sighed. "I'll be here for as long as you need me."
Bumblebee purred, acknowledging, although nervousness still betrayed.
"Oh…Oh-Okay," the little voice murmured.
"That's right," Mirage grinned. He separated a finger from the rest, and then did the same to the others, fanning each out widely like a starfish. Digits brushed up and down Bumblebee's back, temporarily fiddling with the mechling's hypersensitive doorwings, making them flutter. The bot lifted his mini servos and clutched at Mirage's spark chamber, nuzzling his cheekplate slowly without a hint of a smile. His wide optics flicked to the ground as a thought emerged, deeper worry crossing his faceplate.
"Do you think th-they're okay?" came his little voice, sputtering as he cried softly. "I h-hope Daddy's not hurt…"
An optic ridge arched. "Daddy?"
Bee nodded quickly, twittering to himself. "Opmis…"
Mirage smiled at the bot's mispronunciation and traced a finger between his doorwings before he slowly rubbed lazy circles into Bumblebee's helm. He tilted his head in ponder.
"You consider Optimus your father?"
Tears blurred the youngling's vision, his words hitching. Bumblebee winced as his processor refused to open his mouth, refused to will the painful words to come out. His little throat funneled tightly before he cried, tears then trickling down his faceplate. Mirage listened in near horror, shaking his head at the unintentional pain he had caused.
"Little one, no, no, no," he protested softly, cradling the tiny bot into the crook of his neck. "No, quiet…I didn't mean to cause this."
Tiny hands clawed into his shoulder panels, little feet digging into his upper chestplate as the bot tried to squirm higher. Mirage supported the sparkling with a palm returning beneath his yellow bottom, propping him up with a light bounce. Bumblebee's head snuggled against his neck, tears tickling down Mirage's shoulder.
"Mmmmm…" Bumblebee hummed as he cried.
Mirage winced. "I won't go further…" he whispered, pressing his face against Bumblebee's neck. His optic lids closed for a mere moment. The simple word of father rendered an unexpected reaction from the mechling, and though his instinct was to inquire further, he rested his case. If anything, he did not want to cause such a tiny and fragile being even more painful scars to his lifesource. His duty was to protect, not destroy – Protecting the delicate bot's spark, preventing any more wounds, was one of Mirage's greatest duties until Bumblebee grew up. Until the sparkling in his hands became a mech…No more an absolutely adorable, twittering, innocent little bot.
He shook his head with a small grunt, killing the thought. Primus, he didn't want to think of that now. As if trying to retain Bumblebee's tender age, Mirage clutched the bot tighter.
He shifted back to the bot's question. "To answer you, little one, I guarantee you Optimus is okay. They all are. Don't - "
"How do you know?" Bee interjected softly and cocked his head, worry clear in his voice and wide optics. His stare carried through for many astroseconds, forcing Mirage to reassure him.
The Autobot mech slowly adverted. "Optimus would have contacted us immediately had the battle began," he said softly, shifting in his seated position. "Don't worry, alright? We're winning this for you, little one."
Bumblebee's intakes made a soft huff, and Mirage knew that the little bot was grinning up at him. "Really? You all came for me?" The mechling sounded too grateful. He squeaked. Tears still glimmered in his optics, but a smile betrayed every droplet.
"Yes, we did," Mirage chuckled lightly. "There's no way in the Pit we were letting these Decepticons keep you. Come tomorrow, you'll be home in a recharge berth again…With all the energon you can gulp down." His forefingers brushed Bumblebee's throat and fuel tanks as he grinned slowly. "I'm sure you'd like that, hmm?"
Bumblebee sighed happily with a nod at the thought, feeling Mirage ease him deeper against his spark chamber with digits brushing along his throat. He hummed. "Mmm…I can't wait," the bot chirped, rubbing his hungry tanks. "I'm hungry…"
"Yes…Neither can I, neither can I," Mirage agreed lazily. His large fingers grazed over the youngling's chestplate, feeling a trickle of warm energon and coolant drip onto his finger. He furrowed his brow and withdrew. "Your wound…" He blinked, foreshadowing the bot's response to his query. "Are you in pain, little one?"
Bee whirred. "K-Kinda," he stammered. "…Hurts."
"How much?"
"Medium." There was a very slight playful edge in the mechling's voice.
Mirage nodded barely. "Alright. Once Ratchet fixes you up, you'll be good as new."
Bee chirped. "Really?"
"Yeah, really." Mirage smiled, then suddenly stopped himself, blinking. He tilted his head with a crooked smile. Optimus told them they were executing this mission to save a youngling. Yes, a youngling, but he never learned the bot's name. "What's your name, little one?"
He heard the little yellow thing giggle softly, tiny servos prodding curiously at where Mirage's spark lay. "Bumblebee," he chirped almost boastingly, grinning. "What's yours?"
The mech chuckled. "Mirage," he told him. "'Age, Mirage…Whatever you want."
"Mirage…" Bee echoed, then giggled again. "I like that name."
The mech could only grin from receptor to receptor. The bot was a little bundle of joy despite the situation they were stuck in. Mirage forgot about the war, instead focusing on the feeling of Bumblebee wriggling in his hands, just feeling his tiny bottom bounce in his large palm. Younglings were rare – extremely rare in fact – and Mirage vowed on his life that Bumblebee would be rescued.
Cross my spark and hope to die, he thought to himself, his grin widening.
Bumblebee giggled again, then nuzzled his audio into the warm spark chamber. A long-lost feeling of security swept over him and glowed on his faceplate, causing a happy whirr to leave his throat. He felt safe in Mirage's hands, like he used to whenever one of his creators held him. That feeling of loving arms around you as your frame rattled gently by a near, warm spark was to long for – and tender words of affection whispered into your audios brought indescribable security. Each word was a melody to him, a lullaby in itself – Singing, humming, crooning in gentle tenderness.
A little TLC – It's all he needed.
Mirage glanced down to the bot against his spark, a permanent smile seemingly engraved on his faceplate. His fingers stroked and brushed to and fro against the bot's stomach, like dark legs dancing atop a bright yellow stage.
Bee giggled. "Tickles," he twittered. The little one's body extended and sprawled awkwardly in Mirage's hands, granting the mech's tender fingers access to his entire front chassis. Mirage stroked unhesitantly, slowly, his digits rattling whenever the mechling laughed.
"Tickle now?" he grinned.
An, "Uh uh," and whirr were his, "no." Every noise that came from the little one intrigued him – Everything from giggles to chirps to even hisses whenever he threw a tantrum – But, Mirage hadn't became a witness to those outbursts just yet. Thank Primus.
Well, the thought transfixed him in a daydream where they, all of the Autobots, were back at their base with their new youngling addition. Perhaps Mirage would get to witness Bumblebee evolve from this adorable, apple plump-cheekplated bundle of wonder to a full-fledged mech – An Autobot warrior.
Primus, what a thought.
Swaying Bee against his chestplate, Mirage closed his optics. He couldwait vorns upon end until the day when Bumblebee would grow. He begged time to be slow from here on out. Mirage prayed Bumblebee would be a little youngling for as long as possible – To the very second of the end of that time span.
Let time take its time.
"I promise to get you out of here, Bee," he whispered. "I'll do anything to ensure safety."
Bee. The bot chirruped happily with a grin.
But, before Bumblebee could even open his mouth to give his gratitude, a roar echoed from way down the dark hallway, cutting into their moment of tender love. They had almost forgotten where they were, blinded by their special moment in the shadows. Bumblebee grasped.
Mirage re-contemplated - The Decepticons know I am here, he told himself.
Bumblebee turned his gaze to the mouth of the cell, shivering as he remembered Megatron, the three fighter jets…Barricade. Wide baby blue optics looked to Soundwave who still lay on the cold ground, making no hint of movement since the moment he had fallen. That made him shiver. He realized– Soundwave could awake any breem now.
Mirage stroked Bee quickly, killing the whines and whimpers that grew in his throat.
"M-Mirage…" came the quaking call.
"I'm here," the Autobot whispered.
"What if they come back again, 'Age? What if they come back?" Bee trembled, curling in his fear. He whined. "I-I'm scared."
The bot's hope was growing slimmer with each astrosecond.
Mirage dropped his optics. "They," that had to mean the enemy. He shook his head and pulled deeper into the shadows, optics fixed on the mouth of the cave. "You have to remain quiet, little one," he murmured. "Shhh…We must act like we're not here." Mirage pressed his forefinger against Bumblebee's mouth. "Quiet…"
Nothing further.
The bot began to speak, but skipped to shuddering, burying his head deep into Mirage's chestplate. Tears welled in his optic ducts as haunted feelings swept over him. He didn't want to be like Sparkfire, nor his mother or his father. Primus, he was but a youngling in the tenderest vorns of his life. No Autobot wanted their Bumblebee dead, and he surely didn't want it either. Even if it meant seeing his family again – Death was not a favored option in any way.
Another roared resonated. Fear shadowed his faceplate as Bumblebee looked to the cell entrance again, shivering as Mirage's hand cupped against the back of his head.
How confidence could die in astroseconds was astounding.
How his survival became a doubt, and no longer a certainty.
xXx
Outside the Decepticon Base
Optimus stepped over the hillside with hard-edged seriousness engraved on every platelet of his faceplate, a new determination sweeping through him as his optics scanned over the Decepticon base, the intimidating structure composed from a bland gray and the trademark purple tinted metal. The exterior was but the exterior. He knew damn well that inside was an entirely different story. His processor frequently reminded him of their ambition – The youngling. It almost pained him to imagine Bumblebee in a cell with hardly a drop of energon, barely any light, Decepticons looming over him…But now, Mirage was there. The Autobot mech had a spark of gold, and surely would soften the weight of fear that constricted Bumblebee's tiny spark.
The commander sighed. Where would they be an orn from now? Home at their base? Or still fighting for Bumblebee's custody – Perhaps even discovering the bot's death. He shuddered, forcing such thoughts away. He had to get it together, fraggit. Such thoughts would do nothing, but bring them down.
Optimus didn't move when Elita slowly wound her arms around one of his, her shoulders rounding with her sulking frame and a soft huff of a sigh.
"Primus, the poor mechling," she whispered, looking over the base with drooping optics. Her mouth pursed and twisted as she winced a little. "I can only imagine, Prime…They could be doing anything to such a sweet, sweet, little bot." Her optics flicked away. "Frag them and their ruthless ways…"
Optimus looked away without a word. He understood every bit of his femme's heated worry, for his own could be easily related. He sighed. "Bumblebee is in Mirage's care. He shouldn't be harmed."
Elita loosened her arms and pulled them away. "But, they discovered Mirage. Megatron is in there, Prime, and you know he'll only laugh if Mirage tries to fight back."
The commander drew his arms around her shapely frame, surrounding her with the warmth and protection only his embraces could bring. He brought his metal lips softly against her foreplate, listening to her hum worriedly.
"Optimus," she whined, optics dropped to the ground.
"Megatron's forces will not overcome us, or Mirage," he murmured into one audio. "You and I will fight side by side, Elita. I won't leave you in harm's way."
"But, the youngling, Prime…"
He shook his head slowly. "Please, do not worry," he said, despite all the anxiety running through his processor. Optimus managed a small smile.
The femme sighed, stealing a glance at the base. "I know, it's just…I haven't held a bot in so long. It's been so many vorns," she breathed, a smile betraying her worry. "You know how it is…Just the feeling of a little life squirming and wriggling in your arms. The feelings your spark gets just holding a bot against you. That simple smile on a youngling's faceplate that makes your entire orn." She was probably ranting, but she didn't care. Motherly sensations washed over her like a gentle wave, making her smile only widen.
It was the way every femme was wired, with maternal instincts, the technical term for it.
It had been so long since the instincts had been initiated from the vorns of harvesting inside her. She didn't want to wait another astrosecond, nor go through the carnage of a battle to earn the rightful safekeeping of Bumblebee.
"Elita, the youngling will be in your arms sooner than you're thinking," Optimus whispered, pressing his cheekplate against hers. The femme looked in the direction of his optics, watching his mouth kiss beside hers, then looked away. "I don't want you worried, my love."
Elita smiled slowly. "I won't be worried."
Optimus' mouth curved into a wonderful grin.
"Prime," Hot Rod's voice called from behind the couple. "I think we should get going. Doesn't look like they want to attack first." The mech gave a crooked smile. "Looks like the welcome mat's out, and it's all ours."
Optimus slid his arms from around Elita's candy-colored frame, straightening his stature as his optics met Hot Rod's. "We best divide into separate units. Attacking as one will only make us a larger target."
Hot Rod nodded and grabbed Arcee's hand, eyeing the others who dared give him skeptical looks. The femme blinked in surprise, sulking down even.
"Hot Rod, what are you doing?" she whispered, optics flaring.
"You're my partner," he answered almost dryly.
Everyone waited for the next to speak up.
Sideswipe looked amongst the group of Autobots, raising his servos in question. "Any… volunteers?" The question lingered in the air for astroseconds and of course…
No volunteers – But, what did he expect? A crowd?
Someone had to step up.
"Anyone," sighed the commander.
Groaning heavily, Sunstreaker dragged a foot forward. "Why do I feel like I'm already regretting this?" he muttered, slapping his foreplate into a palm.
His twin snorted. "You're the egotistical, hard-to-work-with one," he retorted.
Optimus sulked. He didn't even bother.
Here we go again…
"He's right, you know," Chromia added in a grin.
"Aren't I always?"
The golden mech said no words as his feet dragged in the dirt, trailing lines like tire tracks, his frame sulking all the while before he took his position beside his brother. Sideswipe scoffed and crossed his arms.
"You can buddy up with someone else, y'know. If you want to hurt my feelings even more, go right ahead."
Sunstreaker suddenly stood straight up. "Seriously?"
"Stay where you are," droned Optimus, closing his optics for a moment.
"Ah', frag…"
Sideswipe swallowed the urge to burst out laughing.
The commander sighed. "Enough of this. Time is of the essence," Optimus redirected the conversation, optics shifting to his weapons specialist and second-in-command. "Ironhide, Jazz…" He nodded.
Jazz scratched his head as he looked around the group, blinking at the light blue colored femme before he approached her. An optic ridge arched on her angular, yet appealing faceplate, her hands latching to her sides as she shifted her weight to a side, her mouth twisting. The Second stood before her, gesturing lazily.
"Hey, you wanna - "
"Don't even think about it." Ironhide growled as he wound his arms around Chromia's petite set of pale shoulders, claiming his partner in crime with seriousness concealed in his electric blue optics. Jazz stepped away with a look of mock fear on his faceplate, his hands thrown into the air in surrender.
"Alright, alright, easy there," he chuckled, ceasing his steps. "I wasn't gonna steal 'er." His dark pair of optics shifted to Prowl, and with a single nod, the duo unit was formed.
"We're set," Jazz reported coolly.
A grunt from Ironhide as he kissed his femme was his, "Good to go."
All units were established.
Optimus nodded once, then indicated the base with a slight angling of his head. "Take various positions around the base and do take heed of their alarm systems. Stay within a safe radius, and remain as secretive as possible. That means private communications only – Open more than one only if you must."
A chorus of Yessirs and understoods rose among the group.
Optimus watched as the separate units departed in various directions, weapons arming and loading, optics scanning with high alert-molded processors. Optimus' femme waited patiently at his side as her sparkmate clicked on an active private communications channel between himself and Mirage, hoping to find them still undiscovered in the shadows and camouflage.
"Mirage, come in," he ordered with a small sigh.
Static hissed and crackled in his audios. It cleared…then grew, becoming full and less over and over again. It was teasing him.
"Mirage, come in." Optimus tried again, feeling Elita's worried optics on him. "Come in."
Static whistled – And finally, there was a voice.
"Optimus, Mirage here," it said, calm and collected. "Is there a problem?"
Optimus half-smiled. "Is the youngling still in your possession, Soldier?"
A small whirr echoed in the background of Mirage's channel, and the mech chuckled softly. "Oh yeah, he's still here," he said slowly. "No signs of the Decepticons yet. Bumblebee and I are out of camouflage until they appear."
Optimus nodded to himself. "Excellent, Mirage," he breathed gratefully. "Over and out."
XXx
Inside the Decepticon Base: Megatron's Quarters
The trio of Seekers stepped past the threshold in unison, the respected (at least he was supposed to be respected) Second standing broadly between them. Starscream led them through the narrow, dark hallway, his blood red optics gleaming through every shadow that dared veiled his faceplate. Thundercracker shot a glance at Skywarp, who did the same, and they both began to exchange glances, but skipped to the bloodthirsty grins. A deceptive smirk grew across each their faceplates as they turned about face, their armed weapons pulsing in red-hot enthusiasm.
"I can't wait to crush the Autobots…An aerial attack is probably their most doubted expectation on our part," Thundercracker whispered, chuckling lightly.
Skywarp hummed in agreement. "My teleportation should come in handy."
"Quiet," Starscream shushed heatedly.
The subordinates turned their optics.
Megatron sat about his throne, studying his Decepticons in heavy authoritative silence. Blackout twisted slightly to face their fellow Decepticons. Starscream ditched his fighter jets to arc forward reverentially before his Liege.
Skywarp shook his head. "Let the kiss-aft games begin," he murmured under his breath.
"Tell me about it," was the fellow jet's muttered response, his optics rolling.
"Lord Megatron," Starscream smiled, straightening to his height again. "The Autobots have arrived on the outskirts of the base. Shall we begin our first attack?"
"Yes, you, Starscream, will launch the first attack with your subordinates. Fight without second guesses, nor the slightest hesitation…" His servo curled into a fist, red optics narrowing in the darkness that veiled his faceplate. "Eradicate the enemy and blow them into oblivion."
Starscream nodded slowly. "As you wish, my liege."
"Blackout shall initiate our second attack," the Lord continued. "You will contact him, Starscream, a breem or so after you attack the Autobots," Megatron growled at the name of the enemy. "Bonecrusher shall follow…And I will personally go after the cretin who dared enter the youngling's cell."
"And what of Soundwave?" Thundercracker inquired. "Did he... offline?"
"For the time being," Megatron slitted his optics. "I believe he can be restored. But, now, time is short. Let us attack those fools before they attack us first!"
XXx
Outside the Decepticon Base
"Optimus! Seekers!" Prowl alerted, pointing a finger to the sky. "To the south!"
The Autobot commander spun with wide blue optics, scanning the skies almost desperately for three particular aircraft – The infamous Decepticon trio. His optics locked and zeroed onto three fighter jets grazing bottoms of the puffy, gray clouds that hung in the dreary skies. Each aircraft shuddered with their engines roaring, frames jolting forward with groaning hydraulics as metal stretched. Gracefully, they descended in an arc of unison, and the bellows of their engines only grew.
"Autobots, arm yourselves!" Optimus barked, detaching his laser rifle swiftly from his backside. His faceplate slid forward, optics narrowed. "We've got company."
"I'm way ahead of ya, Prime," Ironhide said, shuffling past the commander with his cannons brandished high, ready to be fired at will. They pulsed warm orange and cool blue, whirring excitedly as they fixed on the fighter jet trio. "Just say the word and I'll fire."
Optimus shot a glance at the weapons specialist, then the skies, alternating both gazes equally in the little astroseconds of time as the Seekers advanced. His hand hovered into the air, digits curling in a gesture. A single finger pointed up, and soon met the others in a tight fist.
"Fire," he ordered.
A duel blast whistled from Ironhide's cannons, each missile twisting and intersecting one another's paths as they spun through the air. Starscream broke a hard turn and adverted the missile's path, causing it to coil off course and discharge above the clouds. Skywarp pushed forward as the second projectile pursued him, trying to swerve and break at every moment given. In an instant, the jet once there was no more, seeming to slip right into the blue-black of the sky. The Autobots stared in confusion.
"The frag just happened?" Ironhide breathed, eyeing the commander.
Optimus sighed and lowered his gaze. "Teleportation…"
Skywarp appeared some ways down the bellies of the clouds, cackling madly in his success (perhaps it was rare). Thundercracker clicked the equivalent of a tsk, scanning and frequently checking his radar as to where the once Skywarp-pursuing missile could have gotten. His answer was plainly given when something grazed under a wing, detonating right beside the wing's tip.
"Arrrghhhh!" Thundercracker roared at his crippled wing, darting off. He curved up smoothly in an unwavering arch, becoming upside down for only a moment before the jet leveled, thrusting forward. "Fraggin' - " He cut his rant off short. Thundercracker instead fired as one with the fellow fighter jets along his sides, piercing the ground with nullray blasts. Hot flashes washed over the Autobots on foot, who fired back instantaneously.
"Blackout, report now!" Starscream demanded, and at once, the helicopter emerged from the base. The opposing squad noticed immediately.
"Four o' clock!" Hot Rod announced, turning on his heel. "They just keep comin'…"
"Primus, what now…" Sideswipe muttered as he, too, spun around. A MH-53 Pave Low Helicopter beat its wings through the air in unwavering rhythm, one that was insanely steady – menacing – drum beating right into his audios. The aircraft screeched in mid-transformation with its feet reaching for a frontal column of the base, propellers rotating to an abrupt halt on its back before folding. Blood red optics gleamed at Sides whilst the Decepticon detached his tail rotor blades, twirling them with an ominous glare.
Its infamous shriek resonated through the air yet again.
Sideswipe gulped in fear, and down went his pride. His weapon looked like a plastic toy – a complete joke –in comparison to Blackout's.
"Dear, Primus…"
The Helicopter's mouth curled into a sickening smile as it pulsed its energy cannon. The cooler became warmer and warmer, richer in hue as the energy projectile threatened to unleash. Sideswipe darted backwards.
"Incoming!" warned Optimus.
"Ah, slag,' Sideswipe dropped his head.
The blast beamed through the air, twisting in its path as it homed for him. Sideswipe made an attempt to dodge the projectile, only finding himself on the ground from the burst of energy in the detonation. A hand sat on his shoulder and roughly turned him onto his back. His optics met a pair just like his own.
"C'mon, Sides, get up." He heard a voice, but saw many faceplates circling in his vision. He knew the voice, however, belonged to his twin brother. "You're not out yet. Get up."
Sideswipe creaked upright with the sound of a small groan, trying his best to focus his blurry vision on the Decepticon. His gaze adverted skyward immediately at the sound of aircraft engines, each one whistling and roaring overhead. With his servos attached to Sunstreaker for support, Sideswipe rose to his feet and raised his weapon to Blackout. Sunstreaker protested silently with a hand to force the weapon back at his brother's side. They met optics.
"You know you can't take that Decepticon out, Sides," Sunny shook his head. "Primus, twenty blasts to that thing wouldn't even cripple his armoring. Just look at him…"
Sideswipe shot a glance at Blackout, who continued staring at them. "But, he's sizing us up," he made a face. "We have to do something."
"Not with just me, we're not. I'm not into your whole, 'Look bad-aft for a promotion,' theory," the twin disapproved. "Leave that 'Con to himself."
"What're you talkin' about? Sunny - "
"I know what I'm doing," Sunstreaker interjected. "Now, c'mon. We've got to help the others before we find ourselves severely outnumbered."
Sideswipe sighed heavily. "Cybertron to Sunstreaker. We were ordered to work as separate units. Optimus even explained – Working as one would only make us a huge target."
Sunstreaker was silent for a while. "…We can't take on that Decepticon. You know it."
"We could, if you would stop being' such a fraggin' sparkling."
Sunstreaker shot a glare, optics electrifying. "You mean, if you would actually stop and consider every possible consequence and situation we could end up in. Ever consider death?"
"You're making excuses."
"I am not dying, because of your reckless, dim-circuited ways. You can either follow me or take on that Decepticon by yourself."
Sideswipe took nervous glances at Blackout, still mightily fixed on his perch. The Helicopter lowered his energy cannon and transformed to the skies, the propellers creating that villainous, stubborn drumbeat – One that sent shudders up Sides' spine.
His answer was evident in the drumbeat alone.
xXx
Inside the Decepticon Base: Bumblebee's Confinement Cell
Half a Breem Later
Thud, thud, thud, thud…
Bumblebee optic lids shot up as pure fright clouded his infantile faceplate, wide blue optics glimmering with a sheet of tears that glazed them. He looked up at Mirage with an inhuman drone, clawing at the mech's spark chamber as if it somehow held the answer, as if it somehow possessed the key to lock away every trace of fear inside him. He bounced in Mirage's massive servos, thrashing uncontrollably.
"M-Mirage!" he cried helplessly.
Mirage focused his optics at the mouth of the cell – There was no trace of dread whatsoever etched on his faceplate, only determination and a willingness to fight it through, to fight like he had never before. Even if it meant sacrificing his own life.
Bumblebee deserved no pain, no matter how faint it could be. The scars on his spark were already permanent wounds from haunting recollections and past experiences.
Anything further would be dire to his tender lifesource.
Thud, thud, thud, thud…
"Prepare yourself, Bee…"
Standing slowly, Mirage initiated his camouflage, cradling the now invisible Bumblebee against his warm chestplate. The mech's spark cooed Bee to faint whimpers and shaky whirrs, each hum thrumming gently through the little bot's frame.
"Stay quiet," he ordered lightly. "No more crying…"
Bee whimpered his last. "Are we gonna be okay?" his tiny voice barely whispered. Mirage didn't answer, only brushed the forefront of his digits across Bumblebee's sweet cheekplates. Bumblebee didn't understand what the gesture was implying. Was it an, "It's gonna be okay?" brush across the faceplate, or a, "Shhh…" and an uncertain, "We'll be fine."
The uncertainty made him shiver.
"Mirage?"
"Shhh…"
Thud, thud, thud, thud…
The footsteps reverberated through the floor with an incredibly steady beat – It was almost freakish to listen to. Mirage merged into the depths of the shadows once again, praying to Primus to give him the courage and the strength he needed to destroy whatever Decepticon was heading his way. He could feel Bee's tiny spark thudding frantically against his own chamber, and he grimaced.
"Don't be scared," he whispered. "Please, little one. I'm right here, okay?"
Bumblebee didn't respond. Mirage only felt a single energon tear trickle down his chestplate. There was no use in telling Bumblebee to not fear, he admitted that finally. Those wide optics had seen his mother's lifeless body spewing with energon, Autobot civilian corpses piled on high, a Decepticon's optics mere inches from his own…Bumblebee had seen an eon's worth of war's illustrations, and perhaps even more. Mirage could only imagine the thoughts and flashes of imagery going through Bee's processor right now. Each had to be agonizing.
Thud, thud, thud, thud…
Footsteps continued forth, and soon, a furious roar bellowed through the hall. Bumblebee couldn't help, but squeak out in fear, beginning to sob with a curl of his frame. His optics squeezed shut under the processor that flooded him with death – Death, death, death – Image after image, sound of pain after sound…Each bore into him like stabs of an unceasing bayonet.
Stop, stop, stop.
"M-Mmm…" he hummed between hitching breaths, clawing at his head. "N-No, no, no…"
Mirage grunted softly in a pain, feeling his spark twist, wanting – no, needing – to coo in the bot's audios. But, he knew and hated knowing that doing such a thing would only render him discovered. Mirage swore under his breath.
He slowly shifted his arms silently and cradled Bumblebee deeper into his chestplate, quickly leaning down. His mouth halted above Bumblebee's foreplate before easing against it, fatherly kissing the yellow metal. Bumblebee shivered in secure arms at the affectionate gesture, then murmured indistinctly when Mirage pulled away. The Autobot mech brushed the bot again, quicker than before.
"Shh, shhh…Please, Bumblebee. Relax…I'm here, I'm here."
The mechling groaned as if he were nauseous.
"I know you're there, Autobot," a booming voice rasped. "Come on out!"
Mirage shuddered and drew deeper into the shadows, his spark thudding.
Now, he was scared.
Bumblebee felt every beat of the mech's spark and whined, quaking nonstop.
"M-Mirage…"
"Quiet, quiet…" was the returned whisper, serious in demand, yet gentle in sympathy.
"…Or I shall finish this before it ever begins," the voice ended. Megatron ended.
Thud, thud, thud, thud…
Closer and closer and closer…The Lord himself. With each astrosecond that passed, Megatron's approach was nigh. Mirage knew he would come, and braced himself, beginning with a small oath.
"Take my life if you must, Megatron," Mirage murmured, clutching Bumblebee as if he were the Allspark himself. His optics dropped to where Bumblebee's would be, drooping as they pictured the mechling's fear-stricken gaze and scrunched faceplate. "Do anything you want… but do not take this little life from my hands."
xXx
Outside the Decepticon Base
Ironhide pulled back as he launched another duel blast of missiles from his cannons, watching with rugged expression as each projectile shrilled through the air in twisting array. One detonated against the underside of Starscream's wing, bending it only slightly. The second jolted aside and grazed Thundercracker's underbelly, threatening to detonate, but the jet was ahead of the game. He broke a downward curve and propelled forward, nullray blasts spewing in syncopation. Skywarp fired off sync as he soared at the subordinate's flank, their respected Second screeching overhead them.
"Skywarp, take the yellow one," Starscream hissed over private communications. "Thundercracker, destroy the femme. I'll take the one with the cannons."
Each jet roared their engines in approval and killed their COM channels. Thundercracker twirled in a quick barrel roll, then balanced in a flat, overturned position with warming cannons. He hooted forebodingly.
"Ohh, the skies are my arena," he breathed with a laugh. "Prepare to vanquish, Autobot!"
The blasts flickered through the air like "pew pew pawing" laser beams, straight at the sky blue femme with her weapon clutched above her breastplate. Chromia rolled out of the beams' path, righting up into a kneeled position. Ironhide shot her a glance, relieved to see her rise to her feet. He grinned sheepishly.
"That's my femme," he told her.
Chromia made a face. "These Decepticons can eat slag for all I care."
"Oh, we'll see who's going to eat the slag around here," Thundercracker muttered, swerving away.
Ratchet raised his machine guns at another incoming jet – at Starscream. The Seeker drew closer and closer to the ground, descending to the point where the power of his engines kicked up the earth below, his underbelly practically grazing. The machine guns disappeared as the medical officer cocked back his arms. He hid behind his back the sharp rotary saw that whirred eagerly below the sound of the roaring engine – and at the perfect moment – Ratchet lashed out.
The saw to Starscream's wing amputated a large segment of its tip, and the Decepticon hissed in pain and fury, veering off course as he took a harsh upward curve. Ratchet's buzz saw whirred in disposal as the machine guns were rearmed and aimed for the Decepticon Second. His optics turned, and with a single nod to Chromia and Ironhide, they fired in unison at the retreating jet. The twin subordinates followed behind like ducklings tracking their mother duck, taking fire, yet remaining intact.
"Hold," Ratchet ceased, lowering his guns. "They've retreated."
Chromia arched an optic ridge and held her gun against her chestplate. "Well, that sure was easier than I expected…" She slowly looked to her broad-shoulder sparkmate, worry shadowing her faceplate. "Almost… too easy."
Ironhide's weapons, unlike the fellow Autobots', remained online – Pulsing and humming with life. His electric blue optics zeroed on the fleeing Seekers until he could see them no longer, and with a sigh, he shook his head.
"Oh, they'll be back…" he whispered bitterly. "Don't you worry."
Whoo-hooo, cliffhanger. xD I just had to keep you all in suspenseee.
Please review. xD
