Chapter Four

Plenoptic

Reviews, reviews, reviews…:D

The brilliant authoress for whom this fic is written has lost her mother recently, so I shall go out of my way to make this chapter particularly awesome. Its awesomeness is enhanced by the fact that I am working on it partially at school. Because, yes, I am that epic.

Love you :D

Jetfire felt rather like he was walking towards his certain and untimely doom. Optimus led them up, up, up to the highest levels of the base and then past that, surpassing the residential quarters and the science labs and finally opening a door to Wheeljack's glass dome observatory. Jetfire stepped in silently, dipping his head meekly as he passed his commander. He and Optimus may have been friends, but right now, Jetfire's deeply ingrained ancient Cybertronian programming was scolding him for displeasing his Prime. It wasn't a good feeling. Jetfire decided he'd prefer to have Starscream run him through than have Optimus angry with him.

The Prime shut the door with a snap, and the shuttle flinched, attempting to shrink within his pearly white armor. This was it. He was going to be killed, no doubt about it. Optimus was going to lop off his extremities one by one, ending with the head, and then use his assorted body parts for a game of impromptu hockey in the hallways—

"Jetfire."

The sound of his own name startled him, and Jetfire turned quickly to face his commander.

"Sir?" he responded nervously, tucking his chin and staring up at his best friend from underneath the heavy fringe of his helmet, peering anxiously over the rim of his golden battle mask. Kacey hated the thing, but Jetfire was beginning to see the practical application.

Optimus seemed to regard his tall aerial commander for a moment, his optics moving over Jetfire's body in a brief sweeping motion. Sizing him up, his soldier instincts automatically calculating odds and outcomes if things were to get violent. Optimus silenced that programming. He was more than a soldier, and the time for fighting had passed. It was time to talk.

"Can I trust you?" he asked at length, clasping his hands behind his back and facing his second calmly. Jetfire blinked in surprise—that hadn't been at all what he'd been expecting.

"Did you hear me?" Optimus inquired, arching an optic ridge slowly when the shuttle offered no reply. "Jetfire, can I trust you?"

"Sure, I…yeah…" Jetfire shook his head once, clearing his thoughts. He faced his commander squarely, setting his jaw and looking confidently into those piercing blue orbs. "Of course you can. I've followed you into black holes and back out again. I've dragged you off the battlefield. I've put my life on the line to protect your sparkmate. You are my best friend, my Prime, and the greatest soldier I have ever had the honor of serving with. Optimus, you can trust me with your life."

"But can I trust you with Kacey's?" Optimus asked softly. For the briefest of moments, Jetfire halted—shuttered his optics, dipped his head, searched his spark.

He didn't have to search long.

"I love her," he said decidedly, whipping his head back up, optics glaring fiercely, gold meeting blue. "I love her more than I've ever loved anything or anyone else. You can trust no one with her life if you can't trust me."

Again, Optimus considered, but then his gaze softened, and he broke into a light smile. "You're a mech among mechs, Jetfire. As much as I'd like to keep Kacey my little sparkling forever, I suppose I have to, how the humans say, 'cut the apronstrings' eventually, don't I."

"Optimus…" Jetfire began, but couldn't continue, too overwhelmed by the relief pumping through him. "Just like that, Boss?"

"Oh no, not quite," Optimus said flatly. "You're going to court her properly, understand? I realize you've already…well, you know…but from here on out, you take it in baby steps, one piece at a time. You take her out on proper dates, and she will be escorted by Scavenger or Prowl. You will not be alone with her behind closed doors, and you will not be spending any time in her quarters, nor she in yours. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," Jetfire sighed, some of his relief shriveling up and dying quickly. "And, uh, how long until said restrictions are loosened?"

"As long as I want," Optimus retorted, grinning, laughing out loud when Jetfire visibly wilted. "Come now, Jetfire, if you love her like you say you do, you should be happy I'm letting you within a hundred yards of her."

"Does that mean you're officially condoning our blossoming romance?" Jetfire asked hopefully.

Optimus chuckled. "Oh, hell no."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"You're kidding!"

"No joke. And you know I love my jokes."

"That's awesome!" Kaceystar cheered, leaping onto her mech and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, beaming up into his handsome face. "Just like that, Jetfire!" She pulled him down to her level, tilting her head and bringing her lips to his, but he jerked back and moved her off gently with his hands on her waist.

"Sorry," he said quickly, grimacing at her hurt expression. "Your dad said I can't kiss you until after our sixth date. And, er, I'm not technically supposed to be touching you…"

"Oh, for the love of Primus!" she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "He does know we've already interfaced, doesn't he?"

"Come on, Kacey, I don't mind doing this right," he said gently, risking a quick caress of her astoundingly beautiful faceplate. "We did kind of rush into things, babe."

"I guess so…" She brightened, a devious smile crossing her face. "But did he say that I can't kiss you?"

Jetfire paused, considering. "I guess not…but, Kacey—mmph-!"

He jerked back in surprise when her mouth covered his, kissing him sweetly, hands making a fast sweep down the long planes of his wings to meet at the sensitive joint. He released a moan as her thin fingers slipped in, teasing receptors and tugging wires, coaxing another groan from his mouth into hers.

"Seriously, do you want me to die?" he gasped, breaking their kiss and panting softly against her lips, which she refused to withdraw. "Your dad will murder me in my sleep, Kase, really he will…"

"You're not to touch me, correct? But he never told either of us that I can't touch you, Jet…"

"And you think I can hold myself back with the most beautiful femme in the universe touching me like that?" he growled, nipping at her lower lip before leaning in to mouth lovingly at her throat. "We're breaking all sorts of parental rules, lover."

"And since when do you adhere to rules?" she purred softly, and at that moment he'd never been more grateful to have a berth behind him. He fell back, the femme following him with all the fluid grace of water, holding herself above his prone body while her sweet mouth assaulted his. His hands found her waist and he pulled her down against him, thrusting his hips up against hers at the mere feel of her warm body on his—

"Alright, you two, break it up!"

The lovers separated with a jerk, staring in horror at the grinning mech in the doorway.

"Juh…Ja…JAZZ!" Jetfire fairly roared, his shock ebbing fast to be replaced with furious indignation. "Get the hell out of here, you stupid-aft twit!"

"Um, no, I don't think so," Jazz laughed, planting his hands on his hips, a triumphant smile playing across his devilishly handsome face. "Optimus put me on official couple-watching duty. And you two aren't supposed to be together behind closed doors, nor are you supposed to be touching or kissing her, Jet. You only get two strikes before you're out, and you can already chalk one up on your record!"

"Oh, this is ridiculous! How the hell am I supposed to pursue a healthy relationship if I can't even touch my femme?"

"You heard the Boss—baby steps, Jet, baby steps!"

"Whatever," Jetfire growled, wrapping his arms around his startled femme's waist and dropping her onto the berth below him. "Get out of here, and close the door behind you."

Jazz sighed, shaking his head, amused. "Oh dear. He warned that you might get like this. Scavenger, would you give me a hand, please?"

"Wait, what? Scavenger?" Jetfire drew back when the incredibly huge mech ducked to squeeze in through the doorway. The bounty hunter was scowling, his neon yellow optics darkening to a dangerous bronze as he set sight on his prey. "H-Hey, Scav, what's up? How—HEY! PUT ME DOWN, YOU STUPID OLD FRAGGER! HEEEYY!"

Despite what the situation meant for her relationship (and rapidly growing interface drive), Kacey couldn't help but to laugh as Scavenger stomped his way into the flier's room, seized him by that sensitive wing joint, and promptly dragged him from the berth, poor Jetfire clawing at the floor and scrambling for handholds the whole way.

"Sorry about that," Jazz said with a grimace, turning back to Kacey. "Rules are rules, though. If you want this thing with Jet to work, Kase, you'll have to play by the Boss's rules."

"I'll try," she replied, heaving a dramatic sigh. The saboteur's laugh was interrupted by his squawking comm. link; holding up a hand to motion Kacey into silence, he tilted his head to the side, listening intently.

"Frag," he said aloud, frowning. "In the shooting range? And he hasn't woken up yet?...Well, have they identified the cause?"

"What's wrong?" Kacey whispered, stepping towards her friend and touching his arm. "Jazz…?"

He waved his hand, handsome face darkening as he listened. "…Yeah. Yeah, I got it. I'll tell her. No…yeah. Keep me updated." He closed the link, turning back to the anxious femme. "Don't freak out, okay?"

"Jazz, what's happened?"

"Hotshot," he said grimly, and she felt her spark drop into her feet. "Sunny and Sides found him unconscious in the shooting range a few breems ago. Apparently he'd been there for awhile."

"He was in the shooting range last I saw him," she said weakly. "But that was…that was hours ago. Oh, Primus, what's wrong?"

"That's what they're trying to figure out. Doesn't look like a virus." Jazz looked worried, downright frightened, and that only served to terrify Kacey even more. Carefree and uninhibited Jazz—afraid? "Let's get down to the medical bay, okay? Figure out what in the Pit is going on."

The waiting area of the medbay was already occupied when Jazz and Kacey arrived. Scavenger was hulking in the corner, arms crossed over his chest and his face in shadow; Jetfire was leaned up against a wall nearby, fidgeting nervously and glancing periodically at the chronometer on the wall; Optimus sat still and silent in a chair, hands clasped between his knees and his head hung low. Sideswipe, Sunny, and Bumblebee were all seated quietly on the floor, murmuring amongst themselves, while Smokescreen floated from worried mech to worried mech and chattered reassuringly to anyone who would listen.

"Dad," Kacey said anxiously, moving forward to kneel in front of him. "Anything yet?"

Optimus shook his head slowly, robotically, his optics dimming. She hovered helplessly before him, wanting him to take charge, say something reassuring, act the Prime they all knew he was and more, but he was still. A dear comrade was dying from unknown causes, and it terrified him.

The doors swung open, and Prowl and Elita entered, both looking harried and worried.

"Optimus," Elita said quietly, dropping to her knees at her mate's side, small hands touching his forearm as she looked imploringly up at him. "Optimus, it's all right."

"It's not a virus, Lita. They don't know what it is," Optimus said weakly, turning his head marginally to meet his beloved's gentle blue optics. "He's crashing. And they can't fix him."

"I beg your pardon?" Prowl demanded suddenly, making them all jump. He had his fingertips to his audio, his head turned aside slightly as he spoke into his comm. link. "Ratchet, repeat that."

A tense silence followed. Prowl's optics widened and then narrowed, his jaw clenching tightly as he listened to the medic. Jazz stepped forward, dropping his head against his lover's shoulder with a moan. Prowl took his hand and squeezed his fingers tight.

"Optimus," he said raggedly at last, turning to face his distraught commander. "Ratchet has requested that we put a quarantine unit in place around the medical bay and move the base to Def-Con Four."

Elita's jaw dropped; Jetfire inhaled sharply and grabbed Kacey's hand almost on instinct, squeezing until she winced.

"What?" Optimus croaked, optics wide and horrified. "Def-Con Four? What the Pit is going on in there?"

"Ratchet does not want to release an official announcement until he's absolutely sure," Prowl said quietly. Code for 'something bad.' A shudder passed through the group. "Until then, he has asked that we all leave this area immediately and make the medical bay completely off-limits to everyone except those expressly asked for by Ratchet. Also, anyone showing Hotshot's symptoms is to be confined to their quarters until they can be taken by a medic to the medical bay."

"Then this thing—whatever it is that Hotshot has—is infectious," Jetfire surmised shakily. "Alright. Good enough for me. Let's go, Kacey."

"Agreed," Optimus said furtively. "Everybody out."

"But what about Hotshot?" Smokescreen demanded indignantly.

"We can't do anything," Optimus said firmly, optics hardening. "He would not want us to contract whatever is that ails him. We get out of here, as far away as possible, keep our lines open for Ratchet, and we don't let anyone near this medbay."

The others followed their Prime somewhat grudgingly, with the exception of Jetfire, who was all but pushing his lover out the door. Optimus kept a hand on Elita's lower back, his expression unreadable; Prowl grasped Jazz's hand and pulled him along behind him, with Scavenger and Smokescreen glumly bringing up the rear.

Within two breems, the entire base was in lockdown. All of the floors below the medical bay were off limits; everyone on base was confined to the upper two levels. Mechs crammed into quarters together, others made themselves comfortable in the command center, and for the first time since the construction of Autobot City, everything ground to a halt. Only the oldest bots could remember there ever having been a medical quarantine in their time with the Autobots.

As they always did in a time of crisis, each and every one of Optimus and Elita's children wound up huddled together in their parent's quarters—with a few additions. Galen sat anxiously with Ariel, petting her back gently to quell her soft sniffles; Jetfire was seated on the floor in front of the couch, leaned up against Kacey's legs while she stroked his helm. Leo was sandwiched between his parents, resting his head against his father's shoulder. Optimus and Elita's hands were entwined as always, his head leant over to press gently against hers. Starfire was snoozing in her mother's lap, completely oblivious to the crisis going on around her. Orion sat at Jetfire's side, face glum and optics trained on the floor.

There came a soft knock upon the door, which the eldest son jumped up to answer, and in came Moonracer with Kayla trailing shyly behind her.

"Hi," she sighed, cocking her head to the side and smiling wistfully. "Aren't you all a sorry bunch."

"Thanks," Elita said dryly.

"Come on, now, it's not the end of the world," Moonracer said gently, stepping forward to clasp her commander's hand. "Someone come with me to the rec room to get some energon. By the time we're back, I'm sure there'll be some good news coming in from the rec room. Come on, Orion, Kayla, how about you two?"

"Sometimes I wonder how Ratchet won her," Optimus chuckled quietly as the femme and younglings exited the family's apartment. "She's a wonderful femme."

Jetfire grunted his assent; Elita nodded. Neither of them particularly in the mood to discuss the intricacies of their friends' relationships. Optimus sighed heavily and pulled both Leo and Elita (and in effect, Starfire) into an encompassing hug, which both accepted with no complaint.

:I know you're thinking this is your fault,: Jetfire commented over a private line to the femme upon which he rested.

:I'm not,: Kacey defended, but there was no conviction in her words.

:There's no possible way it could be. It's not like Hotshot's never been rejected before. This is a mess, yeah, but it's not your fault in any way, got that?:

Kacey nodded glumly, reaching down to place a hand on Jetfire's shoulder, which he covered with his own, squeezing gently.

:Jetfire?:

:Yeah?:

:Would you love me even if it was my fault?:

He tipped his head back to look up at her, his optics glinting like golden fire over the rim of his mask. :I couldn't stop even if I wanted to.:

Her face softened, delicate fingers reaching out to lightly trace the outlines of his mask. Optimus and Elita, having seen the whole interaction, exchanged a look, Elita's face darkening in an "You-better-not-interrupt-them" expression. Optimus huffed quietly and leaned back, pretending not to notice when his daughter pulled away Jetfire's mask to steal a kiss.

And it was then that the Prime's comm. link went off.

The entire room fell into complete silence; Leo looked up anxiously from his hiding place in his mother's encompassing arms, and both Jetfire and Kacey's heads snapped around. Jet climbed to his feet, replacing his mask and straightening up like the sub-commander he was, giving Optimus a confident nod. Optimus returned it, touched his fingers to his audio, and took a breath. "Yes?"

"It's me," Ratchet said quietly, his voice barely audible. Prime's fingers twitched, and he felt Elita's small hand slide under his own, grasping him gently.

"What's the situation, Ratchet?"

"Keep the base in Def-Con Four. Do not lift the quarantine on the medical bay. No one comes in or out except patients displaying Hotshot's symptoms. They are to go to the medical bay ASAP, with no escorts. Avoid potentially infected bots at all costs. Do not go anywhere near them. Please relay this message to the rest of the base."

"Ratchet, wait, don't hang up," Optimus said urgently, sitting forward, optics narrowing. "What's going on? What are we dealing with here?"

There was a long pause, filled only by the sound of the soft clicks of Jetfire's wings as he twitched them nervously. Optimus got slowly to his feet.

"I don't know how it happened, Optimus," Ratchet almost breathed, his voice trembling. "I don't know how it got here. I thought we'd wiped it out. I thought we were done with—"

"Ratchet, stay with me here—what is it?"

"It's a Rust Plague."

The silence that followed fell like a several ton weight on Optimus's shoulders; his knees buckled slightly and Jetfire leapt forward to catch him as he swayed dangerously to the side.

"No," Optimus croaked out, his composure cracking and falling to pieces. "No."

"Optimus," Jetfire breathed anxiously, gripping his best friend's shoulders tightly. "Hey, what's wrong…?" Elita slipped off the couch and crouched down as her sparkmate slumped to the ground, tentatively touching his faceplate. Optimus dropped his face into his hands, shaking his head slowly, fighting between utter denial and utter despair.

"Ratchet," Jetfire said shakily, turning on his comm. link and tuning it to the medic's frequency. Elita, Leo, and Kacey quickly followed suit. "What the Pit is going on here?" He listened quietly for a moment, then released a long groan, shuttering his optics. Elita had both arms around her mate, his head tucked under her chin, and was soothing him in soft Cybertronian. Her inquiring optics lifted to gaze at the Autobot vice commander as he lowered his head into his hands, armor clinking softly as he trembled.

"Alright," he said raggedly after a moment, lifting his head. "Thank you, Ratchet. Do whatever you have to do. We all trust your judgment, got it? Do your best." He closed the link and got heavily to his feet, extending a hand to his femme. "Kacey. You come with me. Elita, I want you to stay here with Optimus, alright? Leo too."

"I'm fine," Optimus murmured, separating himself from Elita and making to get to his feet.

"No," Jetfire said shortly. "I don't want you setting foot outside these quarters."

"And why not?" Optimus demanded, chestplates inflating in irritation. "I am Prime—I need to be there for my troops in this time of crisis."

"No, you need to be in here, where it's safe," Jetfire argued, waving a hand around the quarters. "Where that infection can't touch you. Optimus, if we lose you, there's little hope for us. Granted, your star here," he added, resting a hand on Kacey's shoulder, "would carry us through. But she's young. I don't want to place the mantle of leadership on her shoulders anymore than you do. You need to survive this. You and your family are to stay inside, understood?"

"I won't ask you to take a risk that I wouldn't take," Optimus said, optics full of distress. "And you can't expect Kacey to go out if I can't."

"Kacey is a big femme now," Jetfire sighed. "Let's face it, even if we tell her not to, she's going to go out anyway. Might as well put her influence on base to use. If she's calm, everyone else will be calm. But right now our bots deserve to know what's going on, Optimus, and I think Kacey should be the one to deliver the news."

"Me?" Kacey breathed, her optics widening. "I…I don't know if I…"

"I can do it if you can't," Jetfire assured her gently, cupping her face in his hand. "But the Autobots trust you. They trust you with their lives, all of them, and they love you. If you present the news calmly, they'll definitely handle it. If Optimus goes out into a hazard zone and presents the news calmly, they'll probably handle it. If I even try to present the news calmly, they'll maybe handle it. There's no pressure, Kacey, but…"

"Right," she snorted, shaking her head. "No pressure." She sighed, turning her gaze to her distraught father. "Dad. I don't want you out there. We won't make it without you. Please, let me be the one to take this risk. You've dealt with the plague before, right? I've researched it, you've been exposed before so you're much more vulnerable. I need to learn how to handle this sort of thing anyway."

Optimus and Elita exchanged a long look, no doubt communicating silently over their sparkbond. At length they both turned to their daughter, faces resigned but optics full of fear.

"Be careful," Optimus said quietly, reaching out to take his daughter's hand. "Don't go anywhere near the medical bay. Stay close to Jetfire, alright?"

The flier cracked a grin, his optics twinkling. "Do my audios deceive me? Telling me to stay close to your baby femme?"

"Don't get used to it," Optimus growled out, throwing a mock punch at his best friend's head. "Kacey, I'm serious. Please be careful, dearspark."

"Will do, Father," she said gently, accepting the tight embrace into which she was pulled. "You and Mom stay here, look after the younglings, alright? I've got the base under control."

Optimus nodded briskly, turning to his right hand mech. "Jetfire. I'm instating you as temporary commander of the base. Hopefully Ratchet and the others will be able to keep this outbreak contained and get Hotshot back up and running in no time."

"Yes, sir," Jetfire said in a rare moment of solemnity, clasping the hand Optimus placed on his shoulder. "I'll round up the old team, get the base in order. No worries."

"Be careful," Optimus reiterated, nodding his head toward Kacey. "Especially with her. If you love her like I think you do, you won't take any risks."

"Not with Kacey," Jetfire said firmly, golden optics burning. "Not with her."

"I'm right here, you know," she huffed, scowling at the two most important mechs in her life. "And can certainly hear every word you're saying…"

"Then we don't have to repeat ourselves," Jetfire smirked, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

"Kacey," Leo piped up, for the first time in a while. "Kacey, you'll be careful, right?"

"Of course I will."

"Don't get sick," he said seriously, and the slight threat in his voice almost made her laugh, but for his sake she held her composure.

"I won't." The conviction in her own voice surprised her a little, and she found that she actually believed herself. No, she would not fall ill. She would rise up, she would carry her Autobots through this crisis.

It would be her first challenge as a Prime.

It had been a long, long time since the base had been so quiet, so deathly, eerily quiet. Probably not since the long period of recovery following Megatron's siege on the base, in which both Elita and Leo had been seriously wounded. The air itself hung tense and silent, so quiet that each of their footfalls fell like thunder in the command center.

Jetfire explained the situation in low tones to the officers assembled on the command deck—Prowl, Jazz, Ironhide, Ultra Magnus, Wheeljack, Scavenger, Chromia, and Bumblebee—while Kacey hovered awkwardly by his side, knowing that she should take control but not quite having figured out how.

"I don't get why Optimus is having Kacey do this," Ironhide noted, frowning.

"Optimus is highly susceptible to the plague," Jetfire explained calmly. "And if he dies, we'll likely lose Elita too. Then the little ones. Then maybe even Kacey."

"So you're saying we should cut out losses?" Ironhide demanded, arching one thick optic ridge. "If we have to use one of Prime's family, we should use the most expendable?"

Jetfire moved so fast it took even a processor as sharp as Kacey's a moment to realize what had happened. The titanic white mech had Ironhide by the throat and pinned up against the wall, snarling viciously, golden optics glinting with fire over his mask. For one startling moment, Kacey saw Jetfire for the warrior he was. He may have been a slacker, a lazy good-for-nothing in the command center, and a half-bit strategist, but he wasn't the vice commander of the Autobot army for no reason. He was a soldier to the core, every bit as fierce as Optimus Prime when angered, and for some reason, that sent a tremor of fear through Kacey's spark.

"Hey, stop, stop," Bumblebee said anxiously, stepping forward. Scavenger followed suit, but Jetfire interrupted him with a snarl.

"Don't touch me! Did you hear what this bastard said?"

"What did you just call me?" Ironhide snarled out, one heavy hand gripping Jetfire's wrist. Chromia took a step forward, pulling her double-barrel plasma rifle from subspace, ready to back up her mate; Prowl's optics narrowed; Jazz and Wheeljack looked nervous; and Ultra Magnus hovered, evidently unsure of how to react.

"Alright," Kacey said, finally pulling her wits together. "That's enough. Let him go, Jet." When her lover did no such thing, in fact hoisting his captive a little higher, she spoke again the most authoritative voice she could muster. "Jetfire. I said, let him go."

Another tense moment passed, and then his fingers loosened, dropping Ironhide the short foot or so to the floor. Ironhide remained tensed, but Kacey was relieved to see that there wasn't even any bruising along the sensitive wires of his neck. Jetfire had been asserting himself, but had not been aiming to hurt.

"We're all stressed here," she went on quietly. "But if we can't depend on each other, we can't depend on anyone. Agreed?" She turned to Ironhide. "I did this of my own free will. I don't want my father out here where he's exposed to the plague. Nor does Jetfire. These are steps taken to protect our Prime. He won't be put in harm's way if I can help it." She turned her attention to her silently sulking mechfriend. "Jetfire, you overreacted. Apologize."

Jetfire sighed, but turned grudgingly to his comrade. "…Look, man, I'm sorry. Stressed, you know. Upset. Took it out on ya."

Ironhide grunted, waving a hand in dismissal. "Nah. I said stupid stuff. We were both outta line."

The atmosphere softened once more, the mechs exchanging brisk, brotherly slaps on the back (Ironhide perhaps a little harder than absolutely necessary—payback was a bitch) before the small assembly turned to Kacey.

"So now what?" Bumblebee wondered aloud, frowning. "What are we supposed to do?"

"Well, we need someone in constant communication with med bay," Kacey ventured, glancing subtly at Jetfire and taking comfort in his approving nod. "So, Jazz, could you stay in the communication booth? Switch shifts with Blaster as needed."

"Sure thing, milady," he chirped agreeably, and with a brief stolen kiss from Prowl he was off, zipping up the stairs to the huge communications booth above.

"And we'll need an established security radius around medbay—no one goes in or out without proper authorization," Kacey went on, furrowing her optic ridges in concentration. "Prowl, can I trust that to you and Red Alert?"

"Of course," the SIC said smoothly, nodding his sleek head. "You can count on me."

"I know," she said, smiling warmly. "Now, with Red preoccupied, we'll need someone else managing security and patrols, as well as keeping the troops under thumb, with Prowl elsewhere. Ironhide, Chromia?"

"On it," the bonded pair chorused, grinning and hefting their impressive weapons. Jetfire and Bumblebee both eyed the couple apprehensively as they skirted around the group to Prowl and Red Alert's respective stations in the command center.

"Ultra Magnus, Bumblebee, I wonder if you could keep an optic and audio open for my mother and father, in addition to your usual duties," Kacey asked, turning to her two dear friends. "I mean, with them cooped up in their quarters, and with my brothers and sisters…"

"Of course, Kacey," Magnus said, while Bumblebee whistled his approval, bouncing on his toes. "We'll keep a line open."

"Thank you," she sighed, but hesitated before turning to her second to last comrade. "Wheeljack. Feel free to say no…"

"You want me to help Ratch in medbay?" the engineer guessed, grinning at her startled look. "Even though you know it's dangerous? And I can say no if I don't want to lay my life on the line? Relax, Kase. I want to be in medbay, helping crack this thing like a walnut. I was going to go even if you ordered me not to."

"I sort of thought as much," she sighed, but a relieved smile broke on her face. "Thanks, 'Jack. Tell Prowl I sent you. Comm me if he doesn't buy it."

"Will do," the inventor said lightly, and made his merry way out of the command center.

"What about me?" Scavenger inquired, folding his immense arms over his chest. "No orders, your highness?"

"I kind of get the feeling you won't listen anyway," Kacey noted. "I mean, you're a mercenary, right? Not exactly an Autobot. I can't tell you what to do."

He lifted his head, yellow optics blazing defiantly down at her. Jetfire scooted back a little, wary of his old mentor (more so since said mentor had sat back and allowed the Prime to beat Jetfire half to death). "Now listen here, missy. I may not be enlisted, but I'm no less an Autobot than you are. I'm going to medbay to check on my pupil, thankyouverymuch."

"You go in, you can't come back out," Jetfire warned. "We're not taking any chances here."

Scavenger cleared his throat, delivering his old friend a rough grin. "Frankly, m'dear, I don't give a damn."

And with that the old mech trotted off, head held high and shoulders raised.

"…Been keeping up with his Earthan cinema," Jetfire noted after a moment, grinning awkwardly down at Kacey, who was looking torn between crying and laughing hysterically.

"Apparently," she said weakly. "Jetfire, should I really just let him go? If he gets sick…"

"Scavenger is Scavenger," Jetfire said flatly. "He's completely incapable of death. It's just not possible." When she remained unconvinced, he slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her tightly against his side. "I'm not kidding. Did you know that he once joined the Decepticons undercover for your dad? Only mech to have ever double-crossed the 'Cons and lived to tell the tale. Walked right out on 'em and came to us with his damn noseplates in the air."

"I didn't know that," Kacey commented, genuinely surprised, looking up at her mech in awe. "Was Megatron mad?"

Jetfire barked out a laugh. "Was Megatron mad? As the humans would say, no shit, Sherlock. I thought the freak was going to blow out his circuit board, he was so angry. We steered clear of that mother, let me tell you that much. Primus forbid any of us had gotten in his way, he would have broken us in half to get back at Scavenger."

Kacey laughed, and Jetfire felt his spark swell at the light sound, optics softening as he watched her. She really was a wonderful femme. Primus, how many times had he thought that over the last few days?

"C'mere," he intoned softly, and she quieted at once, surprised when he leaned in and kissed her gently, tightening the arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. She'd only just begun to enjoy it when he pulled away once more, pecking her lovingly on the noseplates before straightening back up to his proud height.

"I love you," he said lightly, then winked down her. "And one more thing—don't tell Optimus about that."

"Probably a good idea," she sighed, rolling her optics. "Honestly, Jetfire, I don't think Megatron is the one you need to worry about."

He barked out a laugh, patting her helm with one immense hand. "No, no, probably not. Don't worry, Optimus has never put me in the med bay more than once a vorn, so his quota is filled for now."

"He's done it before?"

"Oh, Primus, yeah." He laughed again, shaking his head. "You should have seen it, this one time—your dad was in med bay so I was acting as commander for a while. We got some hostiles hanging around base, this bastard named Thrust and some of his cronies, so I headed up there on my own to kick 'em out—wound up in over my head and your poor old mech had to drag himself out of bed and bail me out. He proceeded to beat me into the ground and then went back to strict bedrest for the next two weeks."

Kacey was laughing so hard she was nearly on her knees, clutching her abdomen with one hand and holding onto Jetfire for the other. He joined her in spite of himself, in spite of the tremulous state of the base and in spite of the severity of Hotshot's condition. The femme was like that—one smile from her and suddenly the entire universe seemed so much brighter.

And then Jazz sprinted down from the communications dome, and everything went to Pit.

"Kacey," he panted, catching up to she and the vice commander, pausing for breath with his hands on his knees. "Kacey, we've got incoming—"

"Incoming what?" Jetfire demanded sharply, all traces of laughter gone at the look on Jazz's normally cheerful faceplate. "What's going on, Jazz?"

"Decepticons," Jazz gasped out. "Kacey, we've got Decepticons on our borders!"

Dun dun DUUUUUN.

Music for today: All About Us by TATU

On another note, I'm FINALLY done with school this year. Whooooooot~! So look forward to some extra updates, I know I've been suspiciously quiet these past few months XD