Fandom: Transformers Bayverse (POV'verse)/World of Darkness (Mokole centric)
Author: Gatekat and baka_no_neko on LJ
Pairing: Trigger/Amunet Mubarak
Rating: NC-17 for mech/female
Codes: Het, Sticky, Xeno (Transformer/Human), Supernatural
Summary: Three days after meeting Amunet, Trigger is there to greet her on return from a mission. It doesn't go as planned.
Notes: Set in the Point of View fanverse at http:/community .livejournal .com/tf_matrix

Trigger Happy 02: When Things Go Wrong

Trigger tried not to pace as he watched the NEST C-17 Galaxy slowly roll down the tarmac, bringing Autobot and human warriors back from a mission that while an emergency, seemed to be considered normal by the local population. Except for him it was surprisingly stressful because Amunet was among the humans going, and he wasn't among the mechs.

He wasn't alone in his stress either.

Mirage was there with his human, a friendly, spirited woman named Alicia, waiting to see Hound come off the transport. He didn't seem too stressed, but they're bonded, so he probably knows Hound's condition.

A blond woman with a young human sparkling in her arms - Sarah Lennox - she must be waiting for her mate and Ironhide. She didn't seem nearly as calm, though she was hiding it well from the other humans.

Ratchet was waiting for his prized apprentice, First Aid, and on the injured he knew would be there.

The salvage crew and their vehicles were there in force to collect the spoils they'd no doubt been told were on board.

And of course Prime, Jazz and Prowl were there to take stock of the mission results first hand.

"Who'ya waiting on?" Jazz's voice asked cheerfully from Trigger's left.

His processor was running unpleasant scenarios, making the wait all the more stressful. So when Jazz's voice cut through his brooding the Pagani looked up with a start. He smiled weakly over his shoulder at the silver mech. "Captain Mubarak."

Yellow optics darted to and fro but the hunter 'bot forced himself to remain still.

"She's a skilled hunter," Jazz nodded and walked up to stand next to him. "Does she know you're waiting for her?"

Trigger watched a group of the salvage crew scramble by. "I don't think so, haven't spoken to her since she left."

The silver mech nodded as the C-17 rolled to a stop, aft end towards them, and opened the cargo bay door. First Aid was the first visible, calling for Ratchet urgently even as Hound walked out carrying Bluestreak's battered, energon covered chassis.

One of the techs ran out from behind the trucks towards the CMO, fear and panic in her eyes. Trigger backed up a couple of paces to let the human by. He looked among all the humans coming out of the C-17 Globemaster, doors raising slightly in anticipation.

"She's not on board," Prowl's low, even voice startled them both.

"What?" Jazz whirled on his bonded, his entire frame going tense.

The large white mech with black and red markings didn't seem at all phased by the death threatened by the small silver frame. "The need to get Bluestreak here forced them to leave the outlying positions to regroup for a second pickup," Prowl said calmly. "You're cleared to go with the next flight."

Jazz nodded and settled a little, though he was still visibly agitated to Trigger's optics.

Trigger growled, tearing his optics from the silver mech with a hint of jealousy. His engine revving with resolve. "What's their situation? Are they in a secure position?"

The yelling of the distressed female technician wasn't helping his mood, but he distracted himself by pacing. He didn't like waiting, not when action was needed.

"Major Lennox would never leave anyone behind if they were in trouble," Prowl spoke with audible respect for the human commander as the organized chaos of unloading and getting injured mechs and humans to their respected medbays unfolded around them. "The transport would have brought only the injured if the battle was still underway."

"Yeah, Lennox is a good commander," Jazz added his support, though he was no more calm for it.

The black mech shook his helm, stilling in his pacing. "Have no doubt in the Major's ability. He helped hold off the 'Cons when I arrived. Amunet...the Captain also spoke highly of him." He growled again, but more quietly this time. "Just would have liked to have been there."

He followed the movement of the grey sniper, Ratchet barking commands to clear the runway. "Will the kid be alright?"

"Ratchet indicates Bluestreak's odds are good," Prowl answered calmly. "His spark is strong and his processors are all intact. The worst damage was to a sensor wing, but it should recover fully in time."

"Come on," Jazz said suddenly as he turned to stalk towards the transport.

Optics narrowing, but remaining silent the mech strode after Jazz. Dodging various humans, he boarded the plane. "You are close with the Captain, Lieutenant?" Trigger asked after settling against a far wall.

"Getting there," Jazz nodded as he positioned himself to balance the load and settled in for the ride. "It's a five hour flight, so get comfortable."

For a moment, the Pagani merely observed the silver mech before him. Slowly, he folded down and reclining back between two bulky cases strapped to the floor. "I see," he said simply, yellow optics half shuttered.

"You seem unusually attached for meeting her once," Jazz insisted on talking.

"What can I say, she caught my attention," he gave a lopsided smile, noting the edge in the conversation. "Like you said yourself, Lieutenant, she's a skilled hunter."

"Same as us," Jazz nodded, his expression going to a decidedly unnerving one of calculation as he took in every movement, every word and inflection of the other mech. "She is a spectacular socket. Worth fighting for."

Yellow optics narrowed as Trigger came to realize just what the First Lieutenant was doing. He was no fool; he knew a challenge when he sensed one. His doors urged to flare but he stood firm. "She is that and more, sir. I haven't come across a socket with her will and fire in all my travels."

"You can drop the sir, and the rank. I'm Jazz," he said almost cheerfully. "I may be Prime's First Lieutenant, but that's not going to be a factor here." He leaned forward seriously. "Who's best for Amunet is."

The rank had been holding his tongue in check, but now. Trigger watched the silver mech with growing irritation. So, he was competition and he growled. "You have to question that do you? I take it you have connected with her?" he regained his control, leaning forward to rest his arm on his knee joints. "You've also known her far longer than I."

"Yes, and I've been courting her for the better part of five lunar cycles," Jazz nodded, his tone serious and no-nonsense. "She's an exceptional sniper, a fine hunter, and as welcoming as I am in seeing to the mech's needs. Smart, lovely and tolerant of Prowl even. There aren't many like her around."

Despite his clenched face and dental plates, the Pagani felt the first fall of his spark. Five lunar cycles, and how long had he known her? Best part of three solar cycles. "Amunet is certainly one of a kind," he chuckled warmly. "Her knowledge and intensity warms the spark."

Yellow optics flickered up, and locked with Jazz's silver-blue visor. "You have had the fortune of her company for so long, and I admit I am insanely jealous. I have only had the pleasure of one blissful connection with her. This mission prevented any further interaction with her."

Jazz nodded slightly. "She very much enjoys feeding the new sparks that show up," he gave a fond smile. "I doubt that will change, even after she's claimed. Assuming she lets anyone claim her."

Trigger sighed. "She's certainly snagged control over my processors if that is the case. Not that I'm complaining." He frowned. "I don't understand. If you have courted her for so long then why hasn't she agreed to let you claim her? Of course it's her decision, but..." he trailed off, now wary of Jazz.

"Mostly Prowl," he shrugged, though he didn't hide that it had hurt. "Like me, she's more concerned with results than rules. She'd run afoul of him a few times before I got to her. She likes me well enough, but Prowl's part of the package."

"Your bonded, right?" the Pagani asked. "Amunet mentioned that she's not always got on with those who didn't just let her reach her target regardless." He didn't know why he was discussing this with Jazz, he was the opposition.

"Yes, we are," Jazz nodded, a warm smile crossing his features at the thought. "I know. The second time we met it was when she was ranting about him and some of her former COs," Jazz snickered. "She's remarkably creative when she's pissed."

The mech leaned back against the wall. "Can't say I've seen her angry, I imagine she can get quite animated. She's was certainly a force of nature when we met," he couldn't help the shudder that passed through his frame.

"Vengeful little creature too," Jazz grinned mischievously. "Calmed right down when I suggested she prank him for payback in true Autobot tradition. She's good too. Even impressed our resident Terror Twins."

Trigger sniggered at the thought of that. "Heh, must have been quite the prank to impress those two."

"It wasn't that special, it was more than she got one over on him," Jazz snickered. "He still hasn't found out who rearranged his office. If it wasn't for a being four months before planetfall, Raj would have been the top suspect. Caused Red to glitch though. That wasn't fun," he winced in memory of the security officer freaking out completely.

Remembering the Red Alert from his intensive debriefing, Trigger hissed sympathetically. "Not good."

"You have no idea," Jazz muttered. "You met him as sane and stable as he gets outside of Inferno's berth. Glitched ... well, he tends to shoot first at anything that he feels is a threat. Which is basically everything, moving or not. Took Ratch five joor to undo the damage I took taking him down without hurting him. Then he let Prowl give me the lecture about letting those with the training do the work."

Falling silent Trigger looked at him blankly. "All of this trying to say that I'm in way over my helm, Jazz?"

"Not really," he shook his head with a chuckle. "Though you might be, and you might enjoy it. That's on you, not my call. She's not one that'll ever be content to stay behind and she keeps up very well."

He shrugged and looked ahead. "That I gathered. I intend to try and stay on my feet as long as I can. She's worth it even if this mech's a little slow."

Jazz gave him a scrutinizing look. "That she is," he agreed. "I'm not going to give up on her either, until she tells me to back off."

Trigger grinned at back at Jazz's scrutinizing expression. "Then we agree on something."

"Then it's on," Jazz grinned back.

Landing at Kurnak Fort near Lake Pangong Tso on the Indian-China boarder was a fast, hard one, and both could hear the scramble of humans and two mechs outside before they'd even come to a stop.

His comm buzzed and suddenly Jazz was cursing fluently in a dozen languages. His visor flashed before he transformed, his engine revving. ::She didn't report in. You coming?::

The newly transformed mech pulled up beside him. ::Ready to move,:: his engine growled in response.

They roared past Kup and Springer and a dozen NEST soldiers, Jazz in the lead as he transmitted a local map and her last known coordinates to Trigger. Without a word Springer leapt into the air and transformed, his Cybertronian helicopter alt standing out in the sky briefly despite its muted matte green finish. Then he had the altitude to be little more than a dot to the humans below.

Uploading the data, Trigger started a systematic scan of the terrain they'd entered. Mountainous, barren and snow ridden. Following in Jazz's wake, the hunter 'bot skimmed through the locations near where Amunet had last radioed from.

::What type of opposition were they up against?:: it would determine where her and her team had moved to.

::One Con, Roadgrabber, and four drones. We got three drones, the other escaped with him,:: Springer answered. ::We did a thorough search of her LKL and found blood, the fourth drone, but no trail to follow.::

::Why would he take a prisoner?:: Jazz wondered out loud on the secure comm channel.

::He wouldn't.:: Springer said grimly.

::He must be wanting something,:: Trigger pushed his engine to the limit, wheels tearing at the ground. He dreaded the thoughts going through his processor.

::Why'd you send Hound back?:: Jazz demanded. ::He's the back tracker we have.::

::She wasn't missing when he left,:: Springer told him evenly. ::No one was nine point three joor ago. It wasn't until she didn't check in or arrive at the fort eight joor ago that we started to look..::

Trigger only half listened to the conversation, desperately running through scenarios and data. Why would Roadgrabber have taken her? There was no body to suggest otherwise. When they'd arrive at the location he could assess the 'Con's motives better but until then.

::Jazz,:: he pulled out to one side just behind the silver car, securing a channel to him. ::Let me try and help.::

::What have you got?:: he responded immediately, his tone welcoming the impute.

::There is no body to suggest that Amunet is dead. So Roadgrabber must have taken her for something. What would a 'Con need from a seemingly ordinary soldier?:: He fell back in line behind Jazz. ::Nothing, as Springer said. She's a socket. Where any of her teammates sockets? Who else has been reported missing?::

::Everyone in NEST is a socket,:: Jazz told him. ::Certainly all the field ops are. We loose them, but it's all KIAs and we find the bodies where they land. She almost always works alone, or with a spotter at most. She's a sniper. The only thing I can think of that makes her special is being a female and regularly out alone. I doubt she was targeted. An opportunistic grab possibly, and he might want her because she has a socket. I doubt he has any idea what he's got though.::

Trigger let out a sigh and felt relief filter through his system. ::I didn't realize all of NEST were sockets,:: he answered. That left him wondering, if that wasn't it then why would he have taken a prisoner? ::And there haven't been any other Decepticons sighted nearby. That would rule out an ambush or a trap if so.::

Jazz suddenly fishtailed slightly. His engine snarled and sputtered in pure fury.

::None have been spotted recently at least,:: Jazz said, his tone darker than before as they sped through rough but open terrain.

The hunter bot had to push himself flat out to try and keep up with the irate mech.

We better get there fast then he thought internally, his own engine beginning to growl in a low drone.

::What the Pit did Prowl tell you?:: Springer demanded at the sudden burst of speed.

::The odds of her being alive, broken down by what killed her,:: Jazz hissed. ::Two point three one six percent chance she makes it back to Diego Garcia.::

A blare of Trigger's engine found him almost on Jazz's bumper. ::I don't like those odds, why don't we try and increase them in her favor?::

::I hate those odds,:: Jazz agreed. ::We are going to prove him wrong this time,:: he insisted.

A sigh over the open comm was the only response Springer had. ::It's just up ahead, younglings.::

::Who are you calling a youngling?:: Jazz shot back.

::The two mechs acting like their first crush is a breem late,:: the triple changer chided him.

A dark chuckle sounded across Trigger's comm. ::Sounds about right. But we're not going to wait for her.::

::No one said that when I was courting Prowl,:: Jazz grumbled.

::As I recall, you weren't an Autobot yet and frankly all of Iacon was scared out of their processors by the thought you were on base,:: Springer chuckled with a dark kind of amusement as he landed and they all transformed.

Little bits of drone were scattered about, it's tracks, hers, blood and other organic material were scattered about.

"We assumed that Roadgrabber smashed the drone, since it was basically flattened when we got here," Springer explained. "It had a couple shots from her riffle in it too. It was missing with her body."

Careful were he stood, Trigger look about scanning the area thoroughly. "No signals from the drones or him at all then." His optics narrowed. "No sign of his tracks either?" he growled, doors flaring as he walked carefully through the site.

"Not that we found," Springer watched in fascination as the purpose-built hunter and a living legend went to work with sensor sets and knowledge that he couldn't hope to match.

Trigger came upon a piece of drone debris, and his sensors hit tracking gold. The surface was dried, and there was barely enough for a sample but the mech knelt down anyway. One of his servos transformed and a syringe looking tool dug into the dried liquid. He still for a moment, his sensors coming alive as her blood was analyzed.

Standing up the mech turned and re-scanned the area, scouting round the edge of the site. With the sample he now possessed, he could recalibrate his sensors. A few minutes passed, him wandering further and further away. His scanner was going haywire, his whole processor now locked into predator mode.

He paused by the base of a barren hill, yellow optics narrowing into slits. They zoomed in ... so faint, oh so very faint. But there ... tracks. He frowned, his spark pulsing. But not the kind of tracks he'd expected.

They were the size Ironhide would leave and even further apart, but they weren't anything like what a mech would create.

Stepping back the Pagani took in what he was seeing, his processor filtering through species to try and find a match, with no success. Growling, he transformed swiftly and swerved round the track. He began trying to find matches to the track in the area, his sensors having to strain to find them.

No wonder no one else had. A drop of blood here, a faint track there. It was enough, by dusk, to lead him to a cave opening that looked to have been very recently clawed much larger than it had been. Now it was large enough for something Ironhide's size to easily crawl into, and he could almost walk upright into the pitch black interior.

"Oh boy," he uttered. His left servo bent and pulled back until a weapon similar to a shotgun emerged. He scanned as far in as he could, and yes the tracks lead in there all right. "Now I wish I were a little taller," he mumbled to himself as he proceeded inside the cave, optics dimming.

There was a faint grunt, then the scrabbling of large claws against stone moved away from him, going further into the cave.

Optics narrowing, the mech pushed himself closer to the stone. He retracted his sensors for a moment, till the sound was almost inaudible before sending them out before him as he crept closer.

What in the Matrix is going on? his thoughts churned as he ventured in silently.

His IR sensors picked up a very large shape huddled in the back of the cavern. It wasn't warm enough to be a normal mammal, but then it was too large to be a normal anything.

Cautiously the mech slinked into the area, yellow optics darting over the being with a mixture of curiosity and alarm. He kept his weapon low, knowing his size meant his chances against the creature were probably quite slim.

The data collected from the blood sample was indicating that its source was right before him. His spark thudded, he must be malfunctioning.

Suddenly something wrapped both his legs and yanked him towards the beast hard. By the time the world stopped vibrating, he was optic to eye with the creature, its golden slit-iris eyes dilated wide.

"Trigger?" its voice gurgled as its head cocked to one side.

Alarms and warning were ignored as he re-focused on what he was seeing. That voice, he knew that voice. Yellow optics brightened, though his processors where still lagging behind a bit. "That's me...Amunet?"

The large, crocodile-like head nodded as large, clawed hands pulled him close, right against scailed, chilled flesh. A thick tail and fairly long neck curled around him, every inch of her body too cold.

Another sensor sweep and he was picking up injuries from claws, bites and burns along with suppressed life signs of heart and breath.

He reached out a servo and pressed it gently her scales. To say he was stunned was an understatement. But the readings he'd received were too demanding for him to stumble over his own shock.

"What happened?" he asked, wondering how in Primus's name he was going to get her medical attention.

"Drone attacked me," she shivered, her body soaking up his warmth as effectively as a heat sink. "Killed it. It hurt me too bad to change back before Springer came. Had to hide."

Carefully he revved his engine, trying to produce more heat for her. His spark lunged in its chamber as he realized just how dwarfed he was by her new ... form. But he tried his best to ignored it for now. "You're badly damage, you need medical attention."

The head against his side shook sharply in denial. "Need time. Meat useful. Heat better. Forty-eight hours and I can look human."

"Meat? That could be a problem ... but heat, that I can do," he grinned slightly.

"Heat's good," she rumbled, vibrating all around him. "Very good."

He remained still for Amunet while she fell into recharge, his spark pulsing happily in its chamber in an effort to provide more heat for her. He felt the urge to recharge seeping in, but ignored it. He was far more content being in Amunet's company and supplying the extra warmth she needed so badly.

Increasingly insistent comm pings from Jazz, Springer and even Kup eventually worked him into answering one of them, though he was still almost cocooned by Amunet's gradually warming body.

Pulling himself from his daze the Pagani felt his fuel lines cool slightly. Jazz.

::Trigger here,:: he transmitted as calmly as he could, but he knew this was the last peace he'd hear for a while. And it was his fault for not answering earlier. He readied himself, well, as best he could.

::Where the Pit are you?:: Jazz actually snarled. ::Do you have any idea how many times you've been pinged in the last four joor?::

Awh slag he thought before he smoothed his servo along a few scales and felt a more selfish side of him whisper, It was worth it though.

It occurred to him as his co-ordinates popped up ready to transmit. Did Jazz even know? He watched the sleeping female and found realization begin to trickle in. He had no idea. Either transmit his location and risk exposing Amunet - if she hadn't told - or not and lie and bide the female time to transform safely. And risk his COs infamous wrath.

He rested his fore-helm on Amunet's scales and vented. ::I'm still searching sir, I've must have been too preoccupied.::

::Where are you?:: Jazz demanded again, his voice much smoother but far more angry now. ::Coordinates. Now.::

He groaned quietly to himself, wondering how the Pit he was going to persuade Jazz of all bots. He racked his processor and decided that being damaged wouldn't explain it. He tried again. ::Sir, my navigation is malfunctioning. I've tried to repair it but there seems to interference from my surroundings...essentially...:: he vented across the line ::...I'm lost.::

It burnt his pride to say that, he, a hunter bot ... lost? Grumbling, he shuttered his optics, leaning into Amunet's scales.

::Oh good grief,:: Jazz grumbled. ::Can you see the sky?::

The mech stalled for a moment then, unprepared for the question. If he said no, it'd imply he was underground, they'd all surely find him and his sleeping friend. He fought, his processor whirring with possible scenarios. He clawed at his faceplates when he realized the dead end he was in.

Mournfully he traced a scale before uttering an apology to the sleeping female.

Focusing, he singled out Jazz's signal ... and transmitted an image. ::Please sir, come alone.::

There was an agonizingly long pause. ::All right,:: Jazz responded, his voice low and even, all the anger bled from it.

The sigh he vented was complete and utter defeat, his optics dimmed. He spent the time calculating how long Jazz would be and just how to make this not quite so ugly when he arrived. He could only hope that she'd told him already.

::You're in the cave?:: Jazz's cautious, heavily encrypted and shielded transmission brought him out of his thoughts two and a half breems later.

Looking up, the mech answered. ::Yeah. Just follow it all the way in.::

With Jazz's first steps inside, Amunet stirred uneasily as she pulled herself out of deep sleep at the silver mech's approach. Trigger lay still, ready to gently detangle himself when necessary. Audios picked up on Jazz's footfalls as he drew closer, his spark pulsing in anticipation.

A low, rumbling growl, the sound of a powerful predator warning off a perceived threat, erupted all around him as she began to move, uncurling and stepping forward to place her own badly battered body between him and the intruder.

::Who, and what, was cuddling you?:: Jazz asked with a bit of amusement as he froze.

::I'm not sure what she is but, it's Amunet, Jazz.:: Arms rotating as he stretched, the mech spoke carefully. He knew that she'd wake up soon enough when she realized what he'd done. "Amunet, it's alright ... it's just Jazz."

She froze, swaying slightly.

"Ah crud," a low hiss escaped her and she dropped back down, her long tail snaking back to pull Trigger against her again.

"Okay, Trigger, let's hear your side of this first," Jazz ordered.

Steadying himself, Trigger turned his helm to look at Jazz. "I found traces of her blood on a drone, helped me recalibrate my sensors. That allowed me to pinpoint her tracks that led here. She needed heat, to return to her original form. That I could provide. Amunet didn't want anyone to see her yet."

A low grumble from the organic he was pressed against greeted that statement.

Jazz nodded and focused on the crocodile eyes looking at him from the strangest mix-matching of parts he'd seen in a long time.

"So, Amunet ... why hide? I know you're aware of just how many races we've been in contact with," he said gently.

She grumbled again. "Because it's not my choice to make, no more than it's Trigger's to out your kind to humanity in general."

Trigger looked between the pair, feeling the guilt for ratting her out. But he remained silent for the time being, revving his engine slightly to provide more heat.

"I'm down with that," Jazz nodded and moved a bit closer before sitting on the cavern floor. "I'm not even going to punish Trigger for trying to avoid letting me know. How long before you're good to go back to base?"

"Couple days, maybe less with both of your heat," she answered quietly. "The drone hurt me pretty bad before I crushed it."

Trigger smiled. "You can stall Springer and the others that long, right Jazz?"

"Not that they'll be happy about it, but yeah, I can do that," he nodded and opened a comm line to Springer and Kup. It took him over a full klik before he was satisfied that they'd leave and send the transport back to pick them up in forty joor. "So 'sides heat, you need anything else?"

"Meat'd be good," she answered.

Jazz nodded. "A small yak?"

"If you can," she actually sounded eager now. "You can?"

Jazz chuckled and stood with his usual casual grace. "If I can't hunt up a half-domesticated animal where they're native, I need to hand in my SpecOps card."

Thankful for the Saboteur's knowledge of the area, Trigger leaned forward gently into the Amunet. "Glad you know your stuff, Jazz. I've still got a lot to learn about this planet."

"I'll be back with fresh meat," Jazz promised, giving a slight smile at the sight and slipped outside.

"That ... went better than I expected," she murmured.

"He certainly wasn't happy at first, worried for you," he chuckled. "But yes, it has gone well. How are you feeling?" he was tempted to scan her, to check, but he'd rather hear her speak.

"Besides mangled, cold and hungry? Just peachy," she sort of chuckled. "Time'll fix the first, you're helping the second and Jazz'll fix the third. You still haven't asked me what I am."

Trigger's expression was sheepish. "You kind of fell asleep before I could. Well, what exactly are you, Amunet?"

"Oh," she snuggled around him again, enveloping as much of his chassis as she could with her own bulk, though her head remained facing the cavern entrance. "I'm of the oldest people of Earth, the Mokolé. These days we're call were-alligators, but we are the Dragons, the Clutch of the Kings."

Fascinated, the mech gently stroked an armored scale. "Dragons?" he tried to access the internet as best he could. "Incredible, you're kind have become legend. How have you managed to keep hidden for so long?"

"We don't change in front of humans," she said like it was obvious. "I fooled Jazz and Prowl for five months sharing their berth and courting. That and humans rarely see what they aren't looking for. Like yourselves," she turned her head to nuzzle his shoulder gently. "Hiding in plain sight is very effective, really."

His engine purred in response. "Yes. Many do not expect something so obvious."

"Have you encountered shapeshifters before?" she asked in the silence that followed.

He was thoughtful, flickering through his older memory files. "Races with similar attributes, yes, but nothing like quite like you, Amunet. Closest would be Wraiths," he decided. "Creatures that would project an image from their prey's mind to come across as less threatening. It would allow them to hunt and capture prey more easily."

"Useful trick," she murmured. "Do you understand why I, my kind, hide?"

He looked up at her. "Have you been hunted?"

"Hunted and slaughtered," she said quietly, the pain still an open, jagged wound no matter how old it was. "We were feared, rightfully so, and many lashed out in that fear and jealously."

"And this is still going on?" Trigger's optics dimmed at her painful expression. He wanted nothing more than to soothe her, tell her it would be all right.

"When they find us, only one side, if either, ever leave," Amunet let a hissing sigh escape, her eyes closing though she wasn't settling in to sleep. "I'm sure you can work out how much damage this form can do before going down."

"By the way the entrance was expanded, then yes, I'd say you'd pack quite the punch," his humor was lost, even on himself. "Who are these enemies of yours? I don't think humans would pose much of a threat to you? Are they shapeshifters like yourself?"

Amunet chuckled without humor, her body vibrating around his. "Humans would too, but it's the Garou, the werewolves, that did most of the damage. They declared war on the rest of us, on all the other shifting breeds, old and young. It came so fast they had done much damage before anyone realized it was an organized effort. Many fought back, but by then, it was too late to do much more than hide and convince them we were gone. They think we are no more, and it must stay that way."

Trigger listened intently. "I'm sure that it can, Jazz will find a way. And who exactly am I going to tell? Though, trying to explain all this might be difficult."

"We survived the War of Rage and the millennia since by telling no one," she said insistently. "Not even Prime. As for what to say, it's likely Jazz's call, but I have a lot of experience explaining why folks couldn't find me."

"Jazz wasn't kidding when he said you were a good hunter, add survivor to that too," he thought out loud, but more to himself.

The low rumble of a nearly sub-voc chuckle greeted the statement. "Snipers have to be, and that's all he knew me as. I think he saw a little of his old self in me too, but I never was sure." She sighed. "Prowl is going to be a problem, though."

The mention of the security mech had Trigger cringing. "Ah, yeah, Jazz's bonded."

"Which means if he doesn't know now, he will soon," she murmured, her mind going as fast as it could for options. "There is a very strong possibility I'll have to disappear again."

Trigger growled lightly. "When? I know Jazz might not be able to keep it from him, but-" he trailed off, growing frustrated by the predicament. He vented. "You can't let yourself be found out by too many 'bots or organics, of course."

"It should be none," she grumbled. "I should have torn your spark out when I had the opening and hidden what was left where it wouldn't be found. Now ... I have to find out what Jazz plans."

Trigger lapsed into silence, her words, though entirely logical, burned him for some unknown reason. He stilled, optics watching the cavern tunnel, as he was sure Amunet was too.

It was an eternity, in the form of eleven breems, before his sensors picked up the approach of another mech. The quiet ping of his comm with Jazz's ID confirmed who it was.

"He's back," he uttered, looking expectantly at the entrance. He could sense the creature that Jazz had captured, its blood still warm despite its death.

"I can smell it," she rumbled, struggling to her feet, all four of them, and made two lumbering, shaky steps towards the entrance before Jazz darted inside, his silver finish tainted by a few small trails of blood from the body he carried.

"Hay, hay, settle down. Dinner's comin," he promised.

Trigger processor flashed with warnings, his current position was not the best place to be when a predator wanted its meal. But he couldn't do much but wait. "Didn't take you long."

"Like I said," he tossed his kill down near Amunet's jaws and shifted so he could motion Trigger to edge towards him and clear of her jaws. "Easy kill. Reimbursement in this area's easy too."

Carefully, the mech shifted as best he could towards the silver mech. With a gentle push, the mech freed himself and backed away to give Amunet and her meal space. The crunch of long, thick, razor-sharp teeth threw flesh and bone with equal ease was an uneasy reminder of the power in this form. So was the way the four hundred pound animal disappeared down her throat without being torn apart. Crushed, but swallowed hole.

"Thank you," Amunet looked up at Jazz before settling down again near the back of the cave. "Snuggle? I need the warmth."

Trigger had watched the display with fascination, his processor remaining him however of how dangerous this creature could be. Now he glanced at Jazz and chuckled. "After you, Jazz. I've had the pleasure of her company for joors now," he spoke without a hint of malice.

The silver mech gave him a crooked grin and laid down next to her, pressing his back against her flank and revving his engine a bit to generate a bit of extra warmth. It wasn't a move lost of either of the others that he'd just put himself first in the line of fire should anything come in.

Despite their earlier dispute, Trigger felt a growing respect toward Jazz. If Amunet chose the silver mech, he'd not hold it against Jazz. He smirked a little to himself, that didn't stop the competition of course. Shaking such thoughts from his processor, he lowered himself down beside the female. Dimming his optics, he charged his spark, leaned into her scales and joined Jazz in gently revving his engine.

It was going to be a long, tense orn while she recovered enough to return. Even longer ones until he found out just how many would learn about her actual race and if it was too many for her to accept.