Chapter 1: Seven Days Ago…

A/N: Ah, thank you for your reviews and for the regulars, welcome back :D If you see any typos and grammatical errors that are an eyesore (they all are), please message me, so I can remove it, thank you very much!

What started out as a casual stroll became a purposeful march down the hallways, tromping the metal floor with the soles of his feet to elevate his boredom. If only his wingmates weren't so self-absorbed did Skywarp believe he wouldn't have to resort to childish pranks, like stomping the floor in a clumsy tune. Carrying a hyperactive circuit board filled to capacity with the latest pranks, gave little excitement if there were no victims to try them on. Just some astroseconds ago did Frenzy had a good taste of the old Skywarp classic, involving an 'accidental' misstep, a heavy armful of miscellany, and a very long flight of stairs. 'Course, there were consequences, and the purple seeker jetted to the skies as soon as the tape deck returned. However, the unmoving fact remains: Starscream was once again exiled from the Decepticon army for another case of insubordination and Thundercracker…

…Skywarp quietly bowed his head in silence. As soon as the blue seeker's body shell was retrieved, the Decepticon warrior pleaded for Thundercracker's immediate reconstruction. His wingmate would be brought back to life, but his mind won't remember the innumerable vorns they spent as comrades-in-arms. In a sense, Thundercracker wouldn't be the same anymore, but Skywarp found some bittersweet relief that he would be alive again. Plus, Megatron needed experienced troops without the emotional baggage, and the blue jet's battle experience would still remain intact. All that was left now is to teach his soon-to-be reborn friend how to drink energon through his nose; not that he had that kind of talent before, but Skywarp would like to convince him otherwise. The purple jet felt a goofy smile run across his face and quickly shooed it away when the doors shucked open, allowing him entrance to the next room.

"Hey Constructigeeks, howzits?" his sociable greeting earned the seeker five pairs of unwelcomed glares. It was not advisable to throw a crude comment at the same gestalt team that was rebuilding his friend, but after frequent visits, the Constructicons grew accustomed to Skywarp's growing immaturity. Circling around a three dimensional blueprint of Megatron's latest planetary weapon caught the jet's attention with a heavy sigh. "Primus, not this again…is Megatron really gonna go through wid' it?"

"Do you doubt our leader's plans?" Scrapper questioned Skywarp. "Why do you think Megatron's been stringent this year about energon rations?"

"Upgrading that useless monument into a cannon tower saved us a lot of time with less Autobot interference on Cybertron." Hook added to the conversation with his accentuated pomposity. "We could get rid of the those human lovers and that stupid planet they're protecting before they can even blink an optic. Do you have any better ideas?"

Skywarp pulled a wrinkled face towards the Constructicon's second. "Hey, I like the super-giant-Earth-destroying-bazooka idea, but it takes up so much fuel for just one shot! With all that energon, we might as well dig a giant pit for the ener-goodies, dunk the Autobot's inside and take a shot!"

"(Heh), so you wanna gorge them to death, is that it braniac?" Bonecrusher retorted.

"Maybe if you suggest that to Megatron…(um)…" everyone stared at Scavenger trailing his unwanted contribution to a stop, before turning back to the seeker. Mixmaster had to curb his irregular cackling to elevate Skywarp from his ignorance on the whole master plan. "Eh-heh-ha-ha-! You don't un-un-understand, Skywarp! We wouldn't do this without a goo-goo-GOOD REASON!"

"What Mixy's tryin' ta' say is, we've got this energy savin' nick nack, y'see?" Long Haul interrupted. "It collects energy from Earth, right? Then, using our energy supply and the energon borrowed from Earth, we'd blast that ugly mud ball inta' smithereens, and that's not all. The device doesn't stop collectin' energy until Earth's nothing but itty-bitty space dust (and it ain't in my job description to clean that up-)"

"So," the seeker clarified. "It draws power from Earth, and it won't stop until that useless planet don't exist?"

"Exactly," the gestalt team answered in unison.

"...That's cool I guess."

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The ex-Decepticon aerial commander blinked her optics online, to find the infinite darkness staring back at her. Until the Autobots rescued her, the last thing she remembered was being a broken, rotting, near-to-death carcass in an old Decepticon cell on Cybertron.

'Great…just great. They broke me out of one prison to put me in their own…that's Autobot logic for you.'

The weakly femme con tried to lift her heavy arms, but to little effect. Wresting her other limbs free proved to be equally futile, and the seeker concluded that her body was being magnetised to a flat surface. Until she could collect her fragmented senses, Starscream wrung her wrists and swayed her feet in a feeble manner.

'…This isn't a prison, and this isn't the floor…I'm lying down, face up…my mouth is open. I'm drooling. Great…Wait…this is a recharge bed…I-…I must be in-' she took note of the energon cuffs snaked around her limbs, but something else caught her attention. Spotting a ghost white Transformer working at his desk, Starscream squinted to recognise his back.

'…Who the slag are you-' the pale Transformer stood up as if to answer her mental question. Turning around, Ratchet looked down on the red seeker, sluggishly rousing her system out of a timely recharge. "Rise and shine, missy. Feeling woozy? That's because you don't have enough energon in your circuits, and we need your expert advice on Megatron's big bad plan-of-the-week, as soon as you're ready...in three hours."

Starscream swore back intelligently.

"Wuhgurgurhh…" she stopped ululating. 'Damn…I showed him…' No one was safe from Starscream's unlimited sarcasm, not even her own self.

"Count your lucky stars, 'cause if Jazz didn't break you out of that prison…" Ratchet trailed off. If she could recall, the Autobot medic wasn't so mild in tone of speech, even to his fellow Autobots. Not that he had the chance to make it as a Decepticon just because he sounded rough, but he looked visibly concerned. Ratchet raised a finger to click her jaw shut, and halt it from slobbering freely.

"Do you know the percentage of your energon levels when you arrived in the med bay? Not even a double digit," he checked her restraints. "Fortunately, you're now at…" he wandered alongside the perimeter of her bed, "…nineteen percent. Huh."

'Is that supposed to be funny to you-' Ratchet's gruff voice brought her back to his presence. "I can't give you a large amount of energon or you'll be intoxicated, but the previous dose should have raised your energon levels to it's thirties."

'…Why are you telling me this, you…?' the Autobot medic spoke again to stop her train of thought, and she frowned. Either his professional instincts were unbelievably acute or Ratchet was a modest psychic.

"Starscream, if you weren't holding a hostage right now, you wouldn't be in the med bay, you'd be in prison." Ratchet told her flatly. "I don't know how you got yourself into this much trouble, but…" the seeker's optics watched the medic place an I.V. drip next to her berth. "…You'd better make sure you know what you're doing."

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Cybertron, a planet inhabited by innumerable robot life forms littered across its jagged surface, coming in all shapes, sizes, manners…and Breakdown, drowning in his own paranoia. His shifty optics ran along the individual cracks crawling along the surface, suspecting anything that hinted its presence, alive or otherwise. A strained ticking sound grew from the Lamborghini's fingers, strangling the handle of his own gun. The giant infrastructure was capable of housing (too) many Decepticons…so how did he manage to wind up scuffling around its elongated halls alone? No, this was a bad sign to Breakdown; if he had to choose between a room full of curious strangers, or the solitary space suffocating his vocalisers here and now, Breakdown would have done his name's sake.

Rrrrrmmm…

"Who'sthereIknowyou'retherecomeout!" he took a one-eighty turn to point his gun at nothing. Scouting the darkness feverishly, Breakdown felt awkwardly relieved that there was someone else with him, but like him? Any Decepticon will know that most non-military vehicles were land based Autobots. Another fierce rev of its engines summarised the paranoid Decepticon's logic circuits. A customised Martini Porsche 315 Turbo, but Breakdown didn't care about that right now.

"Hey man, cool your turbochargers," a small twitch developed on the Decepticon's optics when a pair of white arms flashed across the shadows. "All that glitchin' in your nerve receptors' makin' you itch. You outta listen to somethin' light and easy."

A snow coloured chassis with a glaring number met the Decepticon's line of vision. Breakdown HATED visored Transformers; he didn't know exactly where they were looking at, and the Porshe's look of confident indifference fuelled his neurosis.

"Go get 'em 'Raj!" Jazz pointed behind Breakdown. The nervous Stunticon deftly whirled around to fire bullets into empty space, before turning back to connect his face with Jazz's knuckles. Having watched the saboteur execute his attack with stylish accuracy, the Ligier allowed himself to be seen, as the golden lines drew out his presence.

"Jazzy bot one, Stuntaconked, one. And a one, and a two, and a thank you for listenin' to Jazz's number one hit!" Jazz sung into his communicator. A fizzled growl died down to allow the speaker a chance to reply.

"Good job Jazz, we've already reached the secondary generator. Get ready for counter-measures in three breems!"

"Copy that," Mirage replied. Jazz clicked his radio back and grinned wider on hearing Mirage's complaint. "That was supposed to be my punch Jazz, you know I'm here!"

"Sorry bot, but we've gotta mission to do, and there's no time to waste!" the duo ran down the corridors.

"(Show off)," Mirage purposely mumbled loud enough for Jazz to hear, and they both exchanged grins.

A/N: I was thinking to write more words into each chapter, that way I can compose each story without too much gobbledegook ;) Tho' proof reading just got more difficult for my feeble little biscuit mind!