Sideswipe stared around the disheveled laboratory with blank optics. The world he knew had unraveled. Doubt and menace surrounded him. Thoughts jumbled in disarray. How did he get trapped in another universe? Was there no way back? Why were they building a space bridge in Perceptor's lab? Where were all the other Autobots? What happened to Optimus Prime? Sideswipe blinked. He had to find a way out.
The blue pulse of Wheeljack's lamps in his peripheral vision suddenly caught his attention. He had been ignoring Wheeljack. "Huh?" he asked abruptly.
Wheeljack paused and repeated himself. "I was saying that those were some good maneuvers you pulled on Slag, though I'm sure Slag would disagree."
"Uh… yeah, right," Sideswipe responded.
Seeing that he was still trying to get his bearings, Wheeljack put his hand on Sideswipe's shoulder. "I'm sure this must be as strange for you as it is for us." He then looked down and chuckled incredulously. "I would have never guessed…"
Sideswipe took one last look over his shoulder as Wheeljack escorted him from the lab. Prowl glanced at him as they exited. In return, Sideswipe smirked and returned him a two-fingered salute. They passed through the doorway and the scene in the lab closed off behind them. A surge passed through Sideswipe's systems. He was glad to be out of that madhouse, and away from Prowl.
As they walked along the hallway, Sideswipe again retreated into thought. How had the strategist taken command of the Autobots? It made no sense. Prowl was a cold-hearted imposter. Prime was an impressive leader, and worthy. An Autobot of his stature did not go down easily in battle, even against a brute like Megatron. The idea that Prime had been destroyed was more absurd than his dream from earlier that morning.
"Sideswipe," Wheeljack began.
"Yeah?" Sideswipe answered.
"What were you doing in Perceptor's lab?" Wheeljack asked. "Before you ended up here? You said you were at the controls, but I wouldn't normally expect you to be working on an experiment with Perceptor."
Sideswipe smiled to himself. He considered how to explain the situation to Wheeljack without saying more than was necessary. "I, uh… well, Prowl wanted me to help you guys," he attempted to explain. "I mean, Prowl ordered me to help the other Perceptor and Wheeljack."
Wheeljack paused to consider Sideswipe's minimal response then chuckled. "Yeah, I remember the sorts of things that Sides – our Sides – used to do." They turned a corner and started down another hallway. "I miss that troublemaker. Sides was one fine Autobot."
It was strange to hear Wheeljack speak of him in the past tense, even though Sideswipe knew that Wheeljack was referring to another 'bot. "What happened to me, or, uh, him?" he managed to ask, feeling weird about talking about himself in the third person.
The smooth whirr of a nearby servomotor distracted them, and they looked up to see a surveillance camera directed at Sideswipe. As they walked by it, the camera turned and refocused its lens on the red Lamborghini. Wheeljack put himself in front of the camera and gave it a big okay sign with one hand. Sideswipe kept walking.
"I see Red's taken notice of you," Wheeljack stated as he caught up with Sideswipe.
"I guessed that," Sideswipe responded, unenthused.
The next camera along the hallway activated and turned around to watch them advancing toward it.
"Never mind him," Wheeljack swatted the air.
"Typical Red Alert," Sideswipe added. "At least he's the same." He quickly shot a glance over at Wheeljack. "You're the same, too."
Wheeljack was silent as they took the elevator up to the floor above. When the doors opened, and they stepped out onto A-deck, they were alone. Sideswipe expected to have passed someone on their way and twisted his faceplate as he looked down the hallway in both directions.
"Where is everyone?" Sideswipe asked, perplexed.
"They're probably further underground," Wheeljack answered. "We built a bunker below the base for better protection. Most like to stay down there." Wheeljack motioned for him to head toward his old quarters. "This way. I have to get back to the lab soon."
Sideswipe looked at the name plates by the doors as he passed them. "You were going to tell me what happened to, uh, me."
"Right," the engineer stated. He stopped for a moment and opened his palms. "Where do I start?" he thought aloud, with optics downcast. "Megatron set us up. It was a trap. He planned it all."
"What do you mean?" Sideswipe asked with furrowed optic ridges.
Wheeljack slowly shook his head and lifted his optics. "Prime and the others were trying to defend a refinery from the Decepticons, but it was a set-up. What they thought were Decepticons were drones. Megatron somehow got a hold of a nuclear weapon from the humans and detonated it over the plant." He paused while Sideswipe processed the information.
"But–that can't be right," Sideswipe protested. "Megatron doesn't have access to nuclear weapons!"
"I-I don't know how he did it," Wheeljack stuttered at first. "But we lost five Autobots that day."
"Who?" he asked, staring at Wheeljack. He was afraid to hear the answer.
Wheeljack's frame sagged and he glanced away. "Optimus," he nodded, reassuring himself. He hesitated before continuing. It was difficult to be reminded of the fallen Autobots, especially his best friend. "Ratchet fell, too." He glanced up at Sideswipe.
Sideswipe jerked with shock at hearing Ratchet's name. "Ratchet? No," he said, feeling himself pulled between disbelief and anger. But the swell of emotion quickly turned into fear. "Sunstreaker? What happened to him, Wheeljack?"
"He wasn't on that mission," Wheeljack replied. "He's still with us."
Sideswipe stared at a point on the golden-orange wall and clamped his jaw mechanism together hard on one side as he thought about his brother. Wheeljack continued to list the other casualties
"Gears and Cliffjumper," Wheeljack sighed with remorse. "We didn't even find a trace of them." Sideswipe's optics focused on a seam in the metal wall as he listened. "And, well, our Sideswipe."
Sideswipe pressed his hand against the wall and leaned against it. He thought of Sunstreaker, alone, without him. This reality seemed less like a strange dream and more like a nightmare.
"Strangely," Wheeljack stated, "Bluestreak survived. He was sheltered by a concrete structure. He suffered heavy blast damage, but he made it." Wheeljack cleared his vocalizer. "That 'bot has got Lady Luck on his side."
"Yeah," Sideswipe responded flatly. It sounded like Bluestreak in this reality was a lot like the Bluestreak from his world. "Wow." Bothered by the losses, it was all he could say as he took it all in.
A moment passed and Wheeljack appeared to perk up again. "C'mon," he said and the two walked the rest of the distance along the hallway to Sideswipe's old quarters.
Sideswipe pushed by Wheeljack and opened the door to his double room, anticipating that he would find Sunstreaker reclining on the couch where he had left him earlier that morning before going down to maintenance. He strode through the doorway, then slowed and stopped when he found the room empty and in disarray. Sunstreaker was not there.
"Where's Sunny?" He scanned his room, alarm spreading through his circuits. The room was a disaster area. He kicked something as he walked around the end of the couch to look into the other half of the room, and several small pieces scattered across the floor.
"We don't see much of him anymore," Wheeljack sighed. "He's not the same, if you know what I mean."
"This is not the way it was," Sideswipe stated, disturbed by the state of his quarters. He picked up a pile of disheveled human auto magazines from the couch arm and scrunched his faceplate at them as he fingered through them. Pages had been torn out of all of them. Then he looked down at the couch arm that they had been sitting on and discovered a series of deep electro-knife gashes in the metal.
Sideswipe lifted his gaze from the couch and noticed more long gashes slashed into the wall. There was anger in each cut mark. His optics moved from the wall over to the double bunk. Two blackened objects caught his attention. He approached them, trying to make sense of the shapes. The larger, rectangular object hung by a wire and was tacked onto the side of his bunk. He carefully lifted the thin, warped plate with the tips of his fingers and made out the embossed letters of his nickname. It was his own license plate, defaced by a fearsome blast of heat. The two halves were fused together into a single piece.
Sideswipe let it go and took a step back in disbelief. The license plate clinked against the edge of the upper bunk. The other, smaller object beside it made sense now. He knew it by its shape. It was the Lamborghini emblem from his chest plate, scorched black so that the bull and lettering were no longer visible. He stumbled over to the chair and sat down. Bearing witness to his own mortality left him utterly stunned. It was incomprehensible.
"This is probably the best place to stay for the time being," Wheeljack said from the door.
Sideswipe looked up at Wheeljack, mouth agape. "I can't believe it."
Wheeljack took one step into the room but stopped there. "I'm sorry, but I don't know where Sunstreaker went."
Sideswipe dropped his optics, reflecting on the agony that Sunstreaker must be enduring. He always hoped that if they had to die, they would die together. The prospect of living alone without his twin was daunting.
"Look, I've got to get back to the lab," Wheeljack thumbed over his shoulder.
Wheeljack was about to go, but Sideswipe stopped him with a question. "Wheeljack, you and Perceptor are going to find a way for me to get back, right?"
The engineer sighed through his vocalizer. "We have to figure out how you got here in the first place." He paused.
Sideswipe stared at a point on the wall, his thoughts drifting back to Sunstreaker. He wondered what might be happening in his own universe.
"Sideswipe?" Wheeljack was still standing in the doorway.
Sideswipe looked up at him from across the room.
"Was Ratchet alright, you know, where you came from?" Wheeljack asked.
"Of course. Everyone was," the Lamborghini answered.
Wheeljack looked down and then nodded. After a solemn moment, he left. The door shut and the clank of Wheeljack's metallic footsteps trailed off back down the hallway and then disappeared.
Waiting in the room for Prowl to summon him, Sideswipe surveyed his surroundings. Sunstreaker had really let the place go. It looked like nothing had been cleaned up in months. He stared at the mess. It was unbearable, these surreal changes just sitting there in an otherwise ordinary world – these things that should not be. He suppressed a tinge of panic.
Breaking off his stare, he leaned forward and reached for one of the many forgotten cups on the table in front of him. A ring of black, gelatinous slime coated the bottom of the cup and left a mark on the table where it had sat for a lengthy period of time. He grimaced at the sludgy film of degraded energon that oozed across the bottom of the cup before setting it back down on the table along with the other old cups.
"This is wing nuts," he said aloud as he sat back, looking around him at the chaotic environment before briefly fixing his gaze again on the burnt license plate and Lamborghini emblem. A surge reverberated through this central column, persuading him to look away from the macabre souvenirs of himself. Sideswipe closed his optics. He was sure it should not be possible to see one's own remains.
He reopened his optics, got up out of the chair and deliberately turned his back toward their double bunk and the mementos. The knowledge that the blackened items were behind him sent another surge rippling through his peripheral systems, so he propelled himself in the opposite direction. He walked past the desk where he remembered sitting earlier that morning, trying to open up his knee joint cover plate. His optics played across the objects on the desk's surface but there was no evidence of the wedge-shaped piece of metal he had left there.
Sideswipe continued through the doorway cut through the wall into the other half of their quarters and was overcome by the plethora of colors and shapes that decorated the walls. He had not seen them before because these walls were out of his line of sight. Sideswipe stopped in the center of the room. Sunstreaker had not been idle after all.
Both walls were covered in murals. It had been ages since he last laid his optics on the magnificent workmanship that had brought fame to his brother back in their days on Cybertron. Sunstreaker's art supplies were neatly arranged to one side of the door. They were the only things organized in their whole quarters. The wall of lighter colors to his left immediately drew Sideswipe's attention and he turned to view it first.
Sideswipe stared at an amazing image of himself, the main character in the painted scene set on Cybertron. Every brush stroke, carefully and meticulously manicured, radiated perfection. Every line flowed gracefully into the next. Each curve, line and angle all were placed in absolute harmony as if by some grand, cosmic agent. The red warrior featured in the mural was more beautiful, more stunningly handsome than Sideswipe could have ever imagined. Sunstreaker had added something to the optics that made them shine with more brilliance than seemed possible in life.
Three-dimensional embellishments added body and depth to the scene of everyday life on Cybertron before the war. Gazing into the picture, he walked down metallic streets suspended between tall, slender buildings. Towering pinnacles arced heavenward. Endless thoroughfares hung silently over vast spaces. Other graceful Cybertronians greeted him, though all were dwarfed by the impressive red character at the center of everything.
Sideswipe moved his gaze away from the center of the mural, searching for Sunstreaker's representation of himself, but found none. It was odd that his brother had left himself out of the picture. Surrounding the main scene were abstract representations of machinations made out of what appeared to be Cybertron itself. The shapes were placed together as if caught in a moment of grand movement. Transformation! He took a step back and regarded the entire piece with new understanding. Sunstreaker had caught Cybertron in a moment of transformation into Primus. The majesty of the great creator Himself became apparent as he looked at the whole picture at once. Sideswipe realized the significance of seeing himself at the center of the mural. It was a scene inspired by the classic legends. It was Primus emerging, showing himself to his creation. That only happened when someone rejoined with the AllSpark.
Sideswipe slowly turned and regarded the dark image on the opposite wall. In stark contrast to the beauty and majesty of Primus, he felt swallowed by the opposing work as he gazed into the center at a similar representation of himself. Instead of adding embellishments onto the mural, Sunstreaker had alternately sliced the metal wall, lifting the strips and sculpting them outward, and carved recesses into the mural to create the effect of treacherous depth. His brother had destroyed the wall to make this mural, cutting and twisting metal, then painting it in ominous colors to focus the viewer's attention toward the tragic figure in the center. But instead of creating ugliness and destruction, Sunstreaker had transformed the unusual wreckage into an image of yearning. Sideswipe stared at the pale form caught in the middle. His coloration was drab and his optics dim. The pained expression on the faceplate perplexed him. It was a complex expression, one which he found difficult to interpret.
At that moment, there were a series of raps on the door over the other side of the double room. Sideswipe looked in their direction, his attention distracted from the mural. There was a pause, another set of raps, and then a muffled, familiar voice called out.
Sideswipe stepped away from the dark mural and moved to the doorway of Sunstreaker's gallery. He stopped and regarded the two murals again. On the one side was hope and on the other side was… rapture?
The door to the room slid open. "Hey, Sunny! Anybody home?" Jazz called as he poked his head into the room and looked around.
"Jazz, is that you?" Sideswipe turned to face the main part of the room.
"Whoa, man," Jazz stiffened and took a step back out of the room. His weapon was already out of subspace and primed to fire.
Sideswipe stopped and carefully raised his hands, palms forward.
"Who are you?" Jazz frowned. "What have you done with Sunny?"
"I'm for real, Jazz," Sideswipe responded as he came closer.
"I said what have you done with Sunny?" Jazz repeated in a low, menacing tone. He shifted his grip on the gun.
Sideswipe shrugged. "Nothing, I guess he's out." He fanned his arm across the room at the mess. "Looks like a bomb hit this place. What happened?"
Jazz noted the red warrior's typically casual response. His brow was still furrowed but he returned his weapon to subspace. He stepped back into the room as Sideswipe settled into the chair.
"This ain't possible, man," Jazz whispered, perplexed. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"
"Yeah," said Sideswipe coolly. He reclined and put his hands behind his head. "But I'm not."
"Well, then I've got to get my optics checked out, 'cause unless you're a hologram, they're not seeing right," the black and white Autobot said to himself. He shook his head and took a second look at Sideswipe. "You can't be real. How'd you get here?"
"You've got me," Sideswipe answered with a sigh. "One minute I'm assigned to help Perceptor and Wheeljack with a space bridge experiment, and the next minute everyone thinks I'm dead."
"So," Jazz crossed his arms and pondered aloud as he gazed at Sideswipe, "this has something to do with an experiment."
"Yeah, they think I'm from a parallel universe," Sideswipe scowled. "This place is right off the map."
"Parallel universe, eh?" Jazz considered. He nodded and smiled knowingly. "Well I guess you're not the same Sideswipe I was thinking of, then."
"You seem normal," Sideswipe stated factually.
Jazz tipped his head to one side. "You know me. Cool as a cucumber, no matter where I am." He was pleased to hear that he was the same cool character in a parallel universe. He cleared a spot for himself on the adjacent couch and relaxed into it, folding his arms behind his head.
Sideswipe looked over at the other Autobot. "Did you know that Grimlock's trying to take over?"
"Yeah, man," Jazz shrugged. "That's been going on for months." And then he smiled. "Don't worry," he chuckled, "there's still more of us than them."
"They just arrested Grimlock," Sideswipe continued. "He's-"
Just then a beacon chirped at Jazz from the signal generator in his left forearm. He pulled the arm down from behind his head and stared at the flashing arrow icon above his wrist joint as information was relayed internally to the Autobot.
Sideswipe watched with muted interest until the signal finished. "What's going on?"
Jazz became serious. "Teletraan I says it just picked up Sunny."
Sideswipe sat up at the news of his brother's whereabouts. "Where is he?"
"At the Black Rock Solar Power Plant in Nevada," Jazz answered and pushed himself out of the couch. "We've gotta go!"
"But… what's he doing at a power plant?" Sideswipe asked as he stood up.
Jazz looked Sideswipe directly in the optics. "The plant's under attack by the Decepticons and ol' Sunny's trying to stop 'em. He needs our help."
"What? He's taking them on alone?" the red warrior asked incredulously. There was no way that he was going to sit in his quarters waiting for Prowl while Sunstreaker faced off against the Decepticons. He clenched his fists. "Jazz, let's go. Summon the other Autobots."
Jazz looked down. "I guess you don't know. It's up to you and me. The others won't come with us."
Sideswipe clenched his jaw mechanism as anger swelled in his circuits. Sunny was in trouble and the others owed it to help him for all the times that he and Sunstreaker had saved their skidplates in battle. "Are they all cowards? Why not?"
Jazz paused before answering. "Prowl's orders. We're pulling out. Leaving the Earth."
Sideswipe was speechless. He did not understand.
"But that's not gonna stop me from getting in a few last kicks at the Decepticons," Jazz smiled mischievously.
Sideswipe could relate to that sentiment. He returned the same mischievous smile and headed toward the door ahead of Jazz.
"Sideswipe, wait!" Jazz called to stop the red warrior. Sideswipe stopped with his hand on the door switch and looked back over his shoulder. "We can't just go out there all in a hurry. Red Alert will be watching."
Sideswipe shrugged. "Yeah, so?"
Jazz refrained from chuckling at Sideswipe's apparent naiveté. "We've gotta look natural, like we aren't heading off to battle. If he picks up on what we're really up to he'll alert Prowl and then we won't be going anywhere."
"That's insane!" Sideswipe answered with disgust. "Then how do we get out of here?" He spread his palms open. "Sunny could be in trouble. We have to get there right away."
"Just follow me and do what I do," Jazz answered as he approached the door.
Sideswipe opened the door and both Autobots stepped out into the hallway. The red warrior started for the main entrance while Jazz went the other way.
"This way," Jazz waved to Sideswipe.
Sideswipe looked at Jazz, confused. "But that's the wrong way."
Jazz chuckled to himself and continued on casually. "Don't sweat it," he explained. "I've got it all worked out. This'll attract less attention. C'mon."
"Well, uh, okay…" Sideswipe responded and reluctantly followed Jazz.
As Red Alert's surveillance cameras followed them, Jazz led Sideswipe through the Ark. Sideswipe was eager to make a break for it and deal with any consequences later. But he trusted that Jazz could outsmart Red Alert and his security systems. Sideswipe looked up at one of the cameras as it turned to track their movement. He simmered, knowing that Red Alert was spying on them. Red Alert must have tipped Prowl off about him being in maintenance. Sideswipe narrowed his optics as he made a mental note to pay the security chief a special visit at the next possible opportunity. He was not going to let Red Alert get away with meddling in his personal affairs. After all, Sideswipe concluded, it was because of Red's spying that he was in this mess in the first place.
Jazz stopped and raised his forearm communicator screen to his faceplate. "Hold on a sec."
The Lamborghini leaned against the wall on one hand while he waited for Jazz to make a call. After a moment, it became apparent that the call was just a feint. Jazz was up to something.
Careful not to expose the blank screen to Red Alert's peering cameras, Jazz pretended to complete the call as he spoke to Sideswipe. "It always pays to have a saboteur on your side," he laughed as the surrounding cameras sparked and went offline.
Jazz quickly opened an auxiliary panel in the wall to reveal a handle. He pulled back on it then rotated it ninety degrees. The outline of a hidden doorway became visible next to them as a portion of the wall sunk inwards. "Quick, push it in," he instructed Sideswipe.
Sideswipe obliged and pushed on the door. "I didn't know this was here."
"You're not supposed to," Jazz grinned as he replaced the panel over the hidden door switch. "Now let's shake a leg and get out of here."
They passed through the hidden doorway. Emergency lights automatically turned on to light the tight passageway. Jazz pushed the door firmly back into place, removing any evidence of its existence from the Ark hallway.
"Your secret passage is a good idea, Jazz, but Red's going to figure it out," Sideswipe said as he ran toward the exit.
"I disabled all the cameras in that wing with an electromagnetic disruptor," Jazz answered from behind. "He's not going to know where we went."
"You have one of those?" the Lamborghini asked as he slowed at the end of the passage.
"Just the tools of the trade, m'man," Jazz answered with a tilted smile.
Sideswipe touched the door switch next to the end the passageway. A seam of daylight appeared and a camouflaged door swung inward. They exited onto a natural ridge on the side of the mountain. Jazz activated a hidden switch that resealed the door. Its rocky, exterior surface blended perfectly into the mountainside.
There was barely enough room on the ledge to stand comfortably. Sideswipe looked over the edge of the ridge down at the drop below them. Jazz quickly motioned Sideswipe to follow him down a path to the outcropping below. The two Autobots hastened down the slope toward the dirt road at the entrance to their headquarters. Once on the familiar surface, both Autobots transformed and raced off into the distance to find Sunstreaker.