"No?" Mirage asked as he hastily pinged Thundercracker, who would not want to miss this. He also activated a modified surveillance program to record his memories in a higher fidelity suitable for archival storage. The software had been coded for intel retrieval but he had sometimes used it for personal moments he wished to revisit, and more than once for evidence in complaints against the conduct of fellow Autobots.
"No." Tempest confirmed, patting the racer's chassis and beeping when his magnets did not stick solidly. He clearly wanted to grip but didn't yet have the strength to do so.
"Would you like a rust stick?" That was an unfair question because of course the sparkling would like the treat. Mirage knew Tempest knew those glyphs. He deliberately did not reach for the packet so he wouldn't give a cue.
"Yes!" Tempest answered firmly in time for his carrier and sire to hear him. Skywarp immediately grabbed the sparkling from Mirage, all but elbowing him away as he spoke excitedly.
"Aren't you a clever bitlet! Can you say 'sire'? Come on, you know you can. Sire." The Seeker bounced the seekerling, delighted at the milestone. Once a bitlet could talk, they were taken out of the aerie to be shown off to the flock. Seclusion like that was old fashioned but everyone still had a party to celebrate the debut. There were all sorts of auguries about the significance of the first glyph, Mostly bunk because nearly all sparklings said 'carrier' or 'yes' or 'no'. Some weirdos like Starscream said 'mine'.
"Gentle, 'Warp." Thundercracker cautioned as Tempest hissed.
"Don't be a wuss." Skywarp didn't say out loud that his trine-mate was being an Autobot but from their expressions the 'Bot and TC heard it. He turned his head to glare at the shareware princess and was completely unprepared for a sharp pain in his neck cables. "Frag!"
"Stop!" Thundercracker snapped, grabbing Skywarp's arms to still him as Mirage carefully detached Tempest from the jet's plating. He hadn't drawn energon though not for lack of intent. The seekerling hissed at his sire, his wing buds flaring as he tried to make himself look big. He was almost vibrating with agitation, his immature field staticky.
"That's my creation." Skywarp laughed riotously, which did nothing to soothe Tempest. "We won't need to sharpen your fangs, will we, winglet?"
"You scared him, 'Warp." The blue jet released his trine-mate to go to his conjunx, who was softly petting the upset sparkling. "Hey, bitlet, it's okay. Sire was just happy you're talking. You're safe. It's okay." He repeated, hoping the jostling hadn't scared Tempest too badly. He kept his field reined in and didn't shout at Skywarp. There'd be time for that later. Once his spark had stopped whirling, when he could explain calmly. Without punching the thoughtless idiot.
"He's fine." The teleporter patted his neck then showed his unsticky fingers. "No damage. He's just playing. I bit mecha all the time when I was little."
"Tempest only bites when he is feeling defensive." Mirage didn't want to get between the Seekers. Silence was probably his best tactic but he felt it important Skywarp was informed of his sparkling's behavioural patterns. "It takes him a while to warm up to people." He deployed some tact. "Being ill has hampered his socialisation. His bonds will be slow to coalesce into reassuring feedback."
"Primus you sound like Knock Out." Skywarp flicked his wings dismissively. "You racers might be fast but you have slag all in common with Seekers otherwise."
"Indeed." The noble said coolly. He did not air any of the retorts he would like to or give the Decepticon the scolding he deserved. Escalating the situation would not be wise. Mirage settled Tempest against his chest-plate and gave him a rust stick. Perhaps letting Skywarp carry him would avoid grabbing incidents in the future.
"Yes." Tempest said, clutching the treat tightly. Sharing was not an automatic function for him. Mirage didn't let go of the stick as the sparkling sucked on it, using the moment as an excuse not to look at either large Seeker. The little seeker grumbled around the rust stick but once he ascertained he wasn't going to have it his own way he settled down to slurp. They'd work on manners later.
"Let's go home." Thundercracker suggested, one of his wings protectively behind Mirage.
Skywarp said something in Vosian then stalked off. He was a few paces away when the blue jet responded in the same language, his tone sharp. The teleporter whirled around to storm back but Thundercracker was already canopy to canopy to him. Mirage edged away as the shouting started. He didn't know what was being said but clearly it was fighting words.
"Fifty shanix says they start punching." Jazz appeared out from behind some stacked debris sipping from a nearly empty cube of engex. He was still 'SlipLane' with his red scuffed in places but his EM field much more distinctly the Autobot Spec Ops Mirage had felt for nearly all their service together. Tempest hissed at him.
"I would rather they did not." The noble remarked, jiggling the rust stick to recapture the sparkling's attention. The ploy failed as Jazz obstinately stayed where he was, not warned off by the show of miniature fierce.
"He's kinda cute." The spy wagged a digit at Tempest, who completely abandoned the rust stick to launch himself at the infiltrator. Mirage restrained him though honestly he thought it would do his former boss good to be bitten. The experience might discourage him from making smart remarks.
"No biting, please, Tempest. You don't know where he's been." He chided as he wrangled the tiny jet. Glancing towards the bigger jets, he noted they were now shoving each other and exchanging sibilant accusations very much like their offspring's hisses. Mirage looked back to Jazz, who was licking the inside of the empty energon cube. "Do you know where that's been?"
"Swiped it off a table at the 'Structies' bar. They've got a fancy patio and everything." He said insouciantly. They'd both drunk worse in the course of the war. Everyone had.
"Surrendering would go a long way to fostering peace." Mirage advised as he noticed his conjunx's wings jerk high with anger as Thundercracker restrained himself from striking his trine-mate. That self-control was reassuring to see. They were out of teeking distance but the air tingled with emotion.
"You're no fun since you got hitched." Jazz pouted. He dispersed the cube with a flourish. "Sorry, by the way."
Mirage felt something jab him in the hip, hard into the auxillary fuel line. He sent a frantic burst communication on all channels, the need to alert too great to finesse a specific recipient. The spy sensed himself falling as his optic feed failed and triggered a transformation to protect Tempest before they both hit the ground.
The world dissolved into colours and motion chasing a pulse of something so loud it took out his audials. Inside him, Tempest made himself small just like he would in Thundercracker's cockpit, nestling close to a familiar spark. It was cramped, oddly contoured, and there was noise outside but the safe/steady/warm resonance reassured the sparkling.
Mirage was less soothed. He couldn't sense up from down. Whatever Jazz had given him had his gyros spinning. There were hands on his plating. He transmitted an all-call, receiving nothing and unsure of his own sending. This configuration was emergency-only designed for high impact events or reentry. He was a cube with all his armour on the exterior. It should be obvious to any onlooker that something was wrong.
Assuming there were onlookers. Surely the Seekers would have felt something even if they were so distracted with their dispute they hadn't noticed Jazz's actions. Was he being transported? Mirage tried to keep calm for Tempest's sake. The sparkling was secure inside him. Any medic could override the cubing but they had to handshake with his firewalls to do so. He had very good defences, which would recognise a Spec Ops hacking attempt.
Which Jazz would realise.
Was this an abduction? The Towerling had been counselled from sparklinghood on what to do should any impertinent being attempt to have away with him. He was very valuable so naturally there were disreputable individuals who would seek to ransom him. His creators assured him they would meet any demand, which was not, as he had realised later, the same as pay.
Would Thundercracker bend to extortion? Probably not for him, almost certainly for Tempest. This gambit might be clever but it wasn't shrewd. Mirage considered what Jazz might hope to gain. Taking him back to Earth seemed unnecessary. A secret rendezvous with Cybertronian guerillas might be plausible though surely they knew the planet well enough to arrange a meeting themselves. Was this a jape to prove a point? Bizarre flirting with Soundwave?
Did Jazz want to start the war again?
Mirage continued transmitting a mayday on all channels and locked himself tight. At least he thought he did. Everything went white.