Darkness and Lightning 18: Epilogue
Two orns after the transfer of leadership and after some of the political chaos had settled, Wing approached Shogun about laying Starcrossed to rest in the crypt of the Knights. The big red mech had thought about it for a moment, then agreed, promising to have a crypt ready for the sparkling by the next orn.
The next orn a group gathered at the Citadel's gates; Wing carrying Nightsun, Drift carrying Starcrossed's small frame, and Governess. The femme was slightly uneasy; she had watched sparklings for many couples and the occasional trine, but Wing and Drift had been the first Knights she had ever dealt with, and she had never been inside the Citadel itself. It was not a place civilians like her went if they valued their frames.
That she had failed to protect their sparkling to such an extent made her all the more uneasy. It didn't matter that she hadn't been on duty because she was in the hospital for a cracked wing strut. She should have been there, her contract was clear on that count, and she wasn't. Because of that her charge was gray.
The Citadel's gates opened silently, catching the group's attention as Shogun emerged, Redline not far behind. The big mech's orange optics swept over the group, then he inclined his helm, tilting it toward the open gates. "Please follow me."
The usually bustling Citadel was almost silent along the route they took, the other Knights hanging back. Optics flickered to the damaged and grayed frame in Drift's arms, then the other Knights would retreat. Shogun ignored the watchers, while Wing kept a careful optic on them, his grip on Nightsun tightening slightly.
Shogun led them into the heart of the Citadel, turning down a previously unnoticed corridor that led deeper under the Knight stronghold. This corridor led down to the Knights' crypt, a chamber cut directly into the rock under the Citadel's center. The walls were cut perfectly smooth, almost polished, studded with reflective minerals and natural crystals. One wall bore carved into it the names of all those Knights who had fallen and whose frames had been smelted or stripped for parts, Dai Atlas and Axe being among the former. Along the other walls, niches had been cut into the rock for frames to be placed inside, then each niche sealed with a plate bearing the name and rank of the occupant. The nearer wall bore a freshly-cut niche, much smaller than the others, the sealing plate leaning against the wall, ready to be set into place.
It was only now that things seemed to hit Drift, and it crashed into him with the force of a gestalt. Vents hitched and his sturdy frame swayed as he gripped the crushed frame of his sparkling. He closed his side of his bonds on pure reflex as to not distract his mate or upset their surviving sparkling. Loss, grief, pain all meant danger to him. His mate had to be able to fight. Their sparkling must be silent to hide. He had to keep it in.
Wing sidled closer to Drift, stretching out a wing to touch his mate's armor gently. He was choking back a keen of his own, shifting to hold Nightsun closer, the small jetling whimpering slightly as he reacted to his carrier's sadness.
Shogun led them over to the fresh niche, standing against the wall next to it. Compassionate orange eyes regarded Drift. The red Knight tilted his helm slightly to the side. "When you can bring yourself to do so, you may lay her frame there," he rumbled softly.
With Wing's touch as his leader's calm voice, Drift allowed the bond with Wing to crack open. The swirl of loss was intense, everything that he'd held back and suppressed to see to Wing's needs exploded across his processors. It was a familiar sensation, something he'd known was coming. He even, dimly, knew the ritual Knights used to inter one of their own from when his white Wing's frame had been laid to rest in a similar chamber.
That chamber was so very different though. Wing's designation was the first full Knight to be placed in it. Before him only two Initiates had been lost. That chamber felt like an Autobot one. Not for the respect to the departed, but to how few had been lost outside of war. This one ... this one was without question what a Decepticon one would look like if they respected their departed. Without war, with no reason to die, half a dozen Knights and nearly a score of Initiates were here.
Starcrossed would be the first, and if he could help it, the last sub-adult to have their frame laid here.
Wing leaned in to touch his forehelm lightly to Drift's, gold optics dimming slightly. His own pain and loss for their sparkling merged with Drift's, wringing a tiny keen from the dark jet's vocalizer. The sound echoed off the smooth, glittering walls and the ceiling.
Governess shifted slightly, watching the pair. Her grief was just as deep as theirs, mixed with the shame of not having protected their offspring. She choked back her own soft sound of grief.
Shogun watched in silence, waiting patiently. His grief was for a young life lost before it could reach its full potential. Sparklings were precious. This little one should have been allowed to grow and live a full existence.
No one cared how long they all stood there until Drift gathered himself and set the frame his own had created into the small crypt and stepped away.
Wing pressed against Drift as the dark grounder stepped back, shifting to wrap one arm around his mate, Nightsun held between them. A soft keen escaped the dark jet.
Shogun's optics dimmed slightly as he began to recite a prayer to Primus, for the departed spark. It was something he was very familiar with. Overseeing funerals and interments was one of the Order Master's duties, but the job had fallen to him since Dai Atlas had never cared and Axe simply couldn't be bothered. His voice, formal and sonorous, echoed through the chamber.
Once he had finished the prayer, Shogun bent to pick up the sealing plate. Holding it, he looked over the group, waiting to see if they had anything they wished to say before the small crypt was sealed.
Drift looked like he was going to, but couldn't make himself. Only a whisper of the wish that she have another chance to see the stars leaked across the bond along with a dark bitterness that he couldn't find it in himself to truly believe in Primus. Not as a caring entity.
Slowly the grounder shook his helm.
"Rest in peace with Primus, little one," Governess whispered.
The broken keen that Wing let out needed no translation or words.
In his arms Nightsun stirred, pulling out one of the plush toys that Starcrossed had often carried around their home with her. He held it up to Shogun, indicating that he wanted it to be placed with his sister. The red Knight nodded, carefully taking the (to him) tiny item and gently placing it in the crypt.
Redline murmured something in a dialect too old for the others to recognize, his cadence and tone one of a ritual.
When they all fell to silence, Shogun shifted the sealing plate to one hand as he carefully spread sealant around the edge of the small crypt, then set the plate in place, pressing it into the sealant and holding it there for a few nanokliks, until it was firmly set.
Of all the internments he'd overseen, all the designations on the wall he had carved so carefully no matter his feelings towards the mecha they represented, this was one of the larger gatherings of those who honestly cared for the departed and some part of him grieved for that truth. As small a cadre as the Knights of Shadow were, they should all grieve the loss of one of their own.
Shogun closed his optics, centering himself briefly before beginning the ritual farewell for a departed spark. Wing trembled, his optics dimming to a dull glow as he listened.
The last word of the ritual farewell trailed into silence. Shogun stepped back, bowing deeply to the new crypt to show his respect for the deactivated youngling and the spark now returned to Primus.
They all walked in silence to the high tower suite that the senior Knight had called home for so long and had yet to abandon for the larger, more plush quarters of his predecessor. To the table full of high grade in the center of the room that Shogun provided they each added at least one cube in thanks for the bounty that had been provided for their grief. Drift added three, and Wing another half dozen, both in thanks, for it was technically their duty to provide the high grade.
There was one other mecha already present in the senior Knight's quarters, a grounder who just reached the red mech's shoulder in height, colored all shades of gray from the deepest charcoal to the palest smoke, red collar standing out vividly against his armor. Green optics met orange, then the gray mech made himself scarce.
Chairs and couches made for different frame sizes had been arranged in a loose circle around the table in the center of the room. Shogun waited until all of the others were seated before finding a place himself.
Drift was the first to claim a cube, downing half of it without even checking what kind it was.
"Sixty-three vorns, five metacycles and two hundred orns Starcrossed knew the freedom of her frame," he spoke, part ritual, part memories of a long-ago funeral and part simply what he needed to say. "She had her wings for less than a vorn, and only flown in the open sky once."
"She loved to fly," Wing whispered. "With me as often as I could take her, and then on her own as long as her fuel lasted. Even when she was out of fuel she didn't want to land." He choked back another keen, his voice giving out on him.
"A bright young life, sparked a true flier, and an existence ended far too soon," Shogun murmured. "She will be deeply missed by those who knew her."
"She was a bright spark who loved exploring and pushing boundaries," Redline spoke for the first time, his voice deep with grief. "She wanted to live enough to claim a spot next to Drift's spark despite all the odds against it."
"She was sweet, for all she was endlessly escaping," Governess added. "Not a spark of malice in her."
"She was there when I climbed out of carrier's frame, and she cleaned off the goo I was covered in," Nightsun piped up from Wing's arms. Tiny wing struts twitched against Wing's arm and chestplate. "She promised we would fly together and drive our creators crazy together."
"We were constantly changing the locks on everything in our home." Wing picked up a cube, keeping it carefully out of reach of the small hands trying to grab it. "She could get into or out of just about everything. Even the front door no matter how well-locked it was."
"We really thought the spark scanner would keep her in for an least a metacycle," Drift said with a soft sigh as the jet high grade hit his systems with a familiar and welcomed intensity. "Turns out she could mimic mine enough to fool the scanner."
"And she somehow managed to get past the traps we set to keep her from getting out of the tunnels," Wing added with a heavy ex-vent, taking a sip of his own cube. "We were glad to have found Governess; she's fast enough in the air to catch Starcrossed when she got out into the city cavern." He looked over at the older femme.
"She would have been a terror had she been raised in the Citadel," Shogun observed, shifting his cube from one hand to the other. "I can imagine how much more trouble she would have gotten into here."
"She'd promised to show me how to get past the door and the traps," Nightsun chirped, trying to grab his carrier's cube and giving a frustrated chirr when Wing held it out of his reach.
Drift reached into his subspace and pulled out a sweetened sparkling cube, a real treat for how rarely it could be procured without drawing notice.
Nightsun perked up with a chirp, trying to leap out of Wing's arms to get at it. He got those treats so rarely, and did his best to make them last when he did. Wing loosened his hold, allowing the tiny sparkling to crawl over into his sire's lap, grasping the cube with both hands.
Shogun made a very soft sound of amusement as he watched Nightsun. It was good to see that his creators were not so consumed with the grief of losing their first creation that this one had been left to languish. He could see though their pain that they still adored their surviving creation and were content to allow his joy and existence to brighten their own.
Drift actually let out a soft sound of contentment when Nightsun settled. Though it wasn't the spark he had supported directly, nor did the sparkling look much like him, his spark had given much of the energy that had become Nightsun. It was a resonance that soothed the ache a bit.
"She had all my fire and defiance, with none of my bitterness," Drift murmured, watching his surviving creation slowly enjoy his cube. "Her spark was mine, but her wit was all Wing."
"Starcrossed was an escape artist," Wing added, his voice soft. "She had us both wrapped around her little finger and she was well aware of it. We couldn't deny her anything. One dose of that wide-opticked look and both of us would cave."
"About time someone gave you a dose of your own tactic," Drift chuckled, working on his energon a bit more sedately, though there was no doubt he was aiming to get too overcharged to drive, much less walk. "She was going to be a real beauty, the cause of more fights than pride. She'd have ruled the city."
Wing smiled at his mate. "She would have," the dark jet agreed. "We would have been warning half the Citadel away from her before long, too."
"Not that she would have cared if we approved of her mate if she wanted him," Drift smiled at the thought, though it was hidden behind his cube. "She had that in common with both of us too."
Shogun chuckled softly. "It would have been funny watching the younger Knights making fools of themselves to try and impress her."
"So says the one who wouldn't have been putting them back together afterward," Redline retorted.
Wing nodded, stretching out a wing to touch his mate, who leaned into the contact, shifting until their plating touched from shoulder to pede. "She would have argued with us, then ignored us." Shoulder pinions drooped, gold optics dimming. "I wish we could have seen that."
"It would have been something to see, as stressful as it would have been," Drift agreed. "Whoever she chose, they would have adored her."
"I would have been the one trying to get their processors off the pretty femme and back onto their chores," Shogun pointed out with a snort. Orange optics turned to Drift. "I pity the fool who would dare treat one of your offspring otherwise."
Wing had to chuckle at that.
"The pretty femme showing off flagrantly and delighting in distracting everyone, then laughing when she was chassed off, daring anyone to catch her," Drift actually grinned at Shogun.
"She was so playful," Governess agreed. "She would have enjoyed the chase to no end."
Shogun chuckled. "She would certainly have made life interesting."
"Playful and full of mischief," Wing agreed, watching his mate carefully as Drift reached for a second jet-grade cube. There was a memory there, dim and hazy, but it was enough to make the black jet worry. He just wasn't sure about what.
"She'd have been the fastest thing this city has ever seen," Drift rumbled. "She was already hard to catch."
"Very difficult," Governess agreed, also turning a worried optic on Drift. Back on Cybertron, she'd known more than one carrier who drank himself to deactivation within the first few orns after a loss. Drift had never seemed the type to give up like that, but much more jet grade and he'd need Redline's attention to stop his systems from shutting down.
"Hard to catch even for me," Wing agreed. He eyed Drift for a moment, then reached over, catching his mate's arm. "Are you sure you should be drinking that high grade?" he asked, shaking the dark grounder to get his attention. The fuzzy memory was making him antsy, so was the way Redline keep looking at his mate.
Shogun tilted his helm slightly, looking at Drift. "He's not going to be able to drive or walk before long."
The grounder muttered something unintelligible and tried to focus on the pile to pick out the shade that was his.
Without a sound Redline picked a grounder high grade up and offered it. When Drift accepted the cube and mixed it with the third of the jet high grade left in his second cube, the medic quietly began to shift the grounder cubes to where Drift seemed to reach when he went for a cube.
"We did focus a lot on needing her to be fast. A lot," Drift said quietly, swirling the mixed high grade in his cube until the color settled, then took a long swig.
Wing's nacelle pinions drooped. "We needed her to be fast, to outrun any danger," he murmured. "But she was too young, and not fast enough." Gold optics closed, the dark jet fighting back a keen.
Drift let his helm shift sideways to rest on Wing's nacelle. "Much too young. She didn't recognize the danger fast enough," Drift's tone was pure self-recrimination. "I didn't act fast enough. I had so much time to. I never truly believed he'd hurt her that badly."
This time the keen did escape, Wing turning to press his forehelm against Drift's. Nightsun looked up from his cube, pressing himself against his sire's chestplate, chirring uneasily.
"It won't happen again," Shogun told them. "I won't let it." Orange optics flashed.
Drift wrapped one arm around Wing and the other cradled Nightsun close. Words from long ago crept up in his processors. "In giving her life, others may grow up without fear."
Wing whimpered softly. "But why her?"
Nightsun reached out to pat his carrier's chestplate. The black jet stirred, dulled gold optics turning to their young sparkling. Slowly sitting up, Wing did his best to compose himself, taking a gulp of his high grade.
"Because it was her, or her brother," Drift murmured a truth too cruel for most to contemplate.
"I would say you were fortunate it was only one and not both," Shogun pointed out quietly, shifting a wing slightly. "It could easily have been."
Wing's armor spiked at that. He clung more tightly to Drift and Nightsun. His mate merely growled, his entire frame vibrating with the helpless rage.
"Never again," Drift hissed. He couldn't take it again. "I'll never hesitate again."
"I won't let it happen again," Shogun rumbled, his gaze meeting Drift's with the intensity of a laser beam, letting the dark grounder know he was serious. "Dai Atlas is dead. I am Order Master now. I won't let anyone harm another sparkling. Never again."
Slowly Drift nodded. "We trust you," he said quietly with a meaningful look down at the young sparkling they had brought out of hiding on the basis of that trust.
Drift pulled Wing into their berthroom, arousal hot and bright in his field and their bond as the black jet was kissed soundly.
Wing squeaked in surprise, wings flaring out, then slowly relaxing. He was nervous, leaving Nightsun alone in their sparkling's own room for the first time since the deactivation of their older sparkling. The dark jet knew that Nightsun's room, positioned at the back of their den, was secure; paranoia had ensured that Wing had scanned and inspected the room very closely. But knowing that didn't make the nerves go away.
As ever, though, Wing was unable to resist his mate, the dark grounder's arousal feeding Wing's own. Slowly, the dark jet's tense body relaxed, almost melting against Drift's dark armor. He began to purr as he returned the kiss, bringing up his own hands to return the caresses.
~That's better,~ Drift murmured as their glossa tangled, stroking and thrusting in a passionate and familiar dance. ~I've missed having my mate.~
Wing made a soft hum, apology flowing through the bond. ~Sorry, my love. I missed this too, so badly.~ He rubbed his frame against Drift's, wings fluttering out and wiggling.
~I know,~ a soothing acceptance was offered as Drift reached for the wings, stroking and pinching. The past metacycle had been hard on them both. Though Wing had taken the longest to accept that it was over and they were safe, all three of them had needed the contact physical and field reassurance of the others for some time. Nightsun's presence in one of their arms had become so normal that no one was surprised to see little purple optics staring out from one of their chests anymore. Shogun's warning that anyone to even look at the sparkling in a way Nightsun's creators didn't like would get the pounding of their existence had gone some way toward helping as well. ~It's time to reclaim our lives.~
Wing purred at the touches, spreading his wings to their full span and pressing them into Drift's hands. Letting out a soft mew of pure need, the dark jet let an image of their lush, comfortable berth slip through the bond, dipping his helm to nip and nuzzle at Drift's throat.
A deep rumble escaped Drift at the image and he didn't hesitate to pull his mate towards it, pushing him down into a tangle of limbs, moans, mews and rubbing armor. With a solid image of Wing's legs wrapped around him as Drift pounded into that wonderful valve sent to his mate, Drift's spike nearly exploded out of him the moment the cover was slid out of the way.
Wing's response was part purr, part laugh. He wrapped both legs around Drift, ankles hook together behind the dark grounder, valve cover opening so quickly it practically dematerialized. Lubricant was already leaking out just from the anticipation.
~All yours,~ Wing purred, wriggling sensually against his mate's frame. ~Take me.~
A deep rumble of desire vibrated both their frames as Drift thrust his hips forward, sheathing himself fully in a single motion. He stilled there to enjoy the sensation of being buried inside his mate once more, the ripple of the valve and slick heat surrounding him.
Wing let out a deep moan, leaning back his helm and baring his throat to his mate's lips and denta. His valve calipers rippled along Drift's spike as the dark jet pressed into the penetration, slipping his fingers into a seam under Drift's canopy and stroking his fingertips along the circuitry underneath.
~Oh, babe...~ Drift moaned, pleasure zipping across his circuits. With a deepening growl he drew his hips back and slammed forward, beginning a punishing pace intending to bring them both to a blissful overload as rapidly as possible.
Wing's hips moved into each thrust, matching Drift's pace. Nimble fingers worked deeper into the circuitry, trailing feather-light over sensor nodes and wiring. The dark-armored legs wrapped around Drift's waist shifted slightly as Wing adjusted his position, changing the angle a hair and moaning as Drift's spike rubbed over another set of sensors.
The charge was building fast, the pleasure roaring across their circuits as their hips clashed and rubbed, each motion bring another wave of pleasure to the pair as they willfully lost themselves in the physical sensation.
Wing's optics flared nearly white, blind with ecstasy. He let out soft moans and mews at each thrust, charge beginning to flicker under fluffed armor plates. Leaning forward, his nipped at his mate's jaw and cheek plating, the fingers of one hand scraping over Drift's cockpit on their way to his spaulder.
The first brush of fingers against his sensitive ground sensors caused Drift to bellow, his back arching upwards as cables tensed, driving his hips flush with Wing's and grinding them together as hot, thick transfluid exploded into Wing's valve, washing over the sensor nodes.
The charge that jumped between their frames and the transfluid filling his valve triggered Wing's overload, his voice a keening shriek as he clung to his mate's frame. His calipers clamped down on Drift's spike, rippling against it in a complex pattern, milking it of every last drop.
It took a good breem for the dark jet to come down from that high, relaxing back onto the berth, purring and trilling in utter contentment with his lax and happy mate sprawled on top of him and still deep inside him.
"Been too long," Drift slurred with a lazy nuzzle.
"It has been," Wing agreed, optics dimly lit and palms slowly stroking his mate's armor. He returned the nuzzle, letting out a soft, content chirp.
"Any inclination to move back in?" Drift murmured, his field relaxed and gently woven with Wing's, expressing how happy the grounder was in the moment.
"Not particularly," Wing murmured. "I like it out here... No nosy neighbors, all the privacy we want..." His field meshed with Drift's, expressing the dark jet's utter contentment.
"Space to expand..." Drift suggested as much as asked, uncertainty mixed with willingness in his field.
Golden optics widened as Wing stared at his mate for a moment, then purred softly. "Room to keep our family close until we're sure they're ready to go off on their own."
"Yes, though with more socialization that she got," Drift said firmly. "Both Knights and commoners."
"Those we allow near them." Wing's armor bristled at the thought of Thorn going anywhere near their little ones. Cautious willingness seeped through the bond. Wing did want more sparklings, though he would wait until Nightsun was a little older this time. He wanted to go flying under the moonlight with several little jets following, teaching them to fly where there were no limits.
"Of course," Drift kissed him soundly. "But next time, we get permission first. No more hiding. We may live out here, but we don't hide out here."
"Shogun changed that rule," Wing murmured. "We can kindle as we please as long as we report which of us is carrying. For schedule changes and the like. There are probably going to be a few sparklings running around the Citadel eventually."
Drift hummed. "Here's hoping none of the really whacked out Knights have them." He leaned in for a kiss. "Then when you are ready, we can try again."
Wing chirred into the kiss. "When Nightsun is a little older. Then we can try again. Just have to have Redline remove the inhibitors he installed after Nightsun separated. And put up with the rant he's going to give us in the process."
"I don't know," Drift grinned playfully and kissed his mate as his hips began to rock softly. "I think he likes sparklings. He just hated the danger they were in."
Wing laughed, hips rolling into the thrusts. "Redline's going to complain about us having a whole flock before Nightsun's fully grown. He just likes to have something to grumble about."
"True enough," he chuckled before claiming a kiss. ~Want your spark,~ he rumbled, his chest plates unlocking, ready to part.
Black armor unlocked and parted, revealing the orange orb of Wing's spark pressed against the side of its casing, clearly demanding to be released. ~You have it, my love,~ Wing purred.