Future Tense - Chapter Two

Disclaimer: As ever, author neither claims nor intentionally implies ownership of the 'Transformers' brand, or any canon character or concept herein, who are copyright 1984-present Hasbro/etc and used with much love and respect to their creators.

Slipstream wasn't difficult to find – a glittering chip of cobalt excitement, easily matching speeds with the policebike cruising leisurely alongside him, down one of Deixar's quieter side streets. He might not have Whitesides' practiced elegance, just yet, and often wobbled fairly dramatically, particularly when recovering from a corner, but he was certainly the older mech's equal when it came to the level of power in his fusion core.

Thundercracker caught them up, amused, and buzzed overhead; Footloose leaned down over his shoulder and shrieked with laughter at her twin, making the blue jet grimace amusedly.

"We'll race you, Slowmo!" she howled down at her brother, pinging him a location. "Bet we beat you to Screamer!"

Slipstream didn't bother to verbally acknowledge the challenge – being a groundling didn't mean he didn't have his sire's harmonics or a powerful little engine core, capable of handling jet speeds. He simply gunned his engines and accelerated dramatically away in front, leaving Whitesides half-amused and half-annoyed (and spluttering grit out of his intakes) behind him.

Slipstream beat them all to the rift by a few body-lengths, with Thundercracker deliberately holding back just enough that it wouldn't be completely obvious he was letting the youngling win. The new little bike bounced on his toes and laughed exuberantly as his uncle glided in with his sister, thrusters pointed for a landing. "I win, I win," he squeaked, gleefully, doing big triumphant circles around them.

"You cheated. You cheated!" Still draped over Thundercracker's wings, Footloose flailed an arm, outraged.

Her mood didn't go unnoticed by the big Seeker. "Come on, Lou." He nudged her under the chin with a knuckle. "You sure we can't persuade you to go groundling like your brother for just a little while? You know from Auntie Lars that first alt mode doesn't mean only alt mode. It doesn't mean you're never going to fly, it just means you won't always have to hitch a ride when Seem leaves you eating his dust."

Slipstream nodded sagely, and she was already pouting and preparing to hit him, dropping back to the floor in the most threatening stance she could manage, anticipating a rude reply, when he spoke; "Come on, Lou. It won't be the same without you." He grinned. "Besides, teasing you gets boring when you're an easy target."

She hunched her shoulders, somewhat humbled, and shot him a halfhearted glare. "I'll think about it," she mumbled, at last.

"Atta girl!" Thundercracker grinned and gave her an affectionate cuff around the audios. "Trust me, as soon as you get into that alt-mode, time will just speed past. You'll barely even notice that you're still on the ground."

At last, Whitesides pulled up, forcing a smile, trying not to look like his core was overheating from trying to catch up. "I'll have to get Ama to find some speed limiters for you, next time we go out," he grumbled. "Barely into your new alt and you're already faster than me."

Slipstream grinned sheepishly, and bumped heads. "Sorry, Whites."

Conveniently, the little group found Skywarp still lurking close to the Rift, as they approached; apparently still smarting from his squabble, and far too stubborn to take steps to apologise, but not willing to give up and go home quite yet.

"Day? Day!" Fotloose launched herself bodily at him. "Day, I changed my mind!"

Skywarp put up his hands and backed off, startled by the vehemence of the greeting. "Changed your mind about what? Am I coming in halfway through a conversation again?"

"I changed my mind, I want to be like Seem!" She attached herself around his chassis. "Can you talk to Sepp for me? Please?"

Skywarp arched a brow and gave Thundercracker a look. "What exactly did you say to her?"

Thundercracker smiled, and spread his hands. "Just proved the power of the green-optic'ed monster, I guess? Can't bear for Seem to be having fun when she isn't." He glanced at the seismograph and sighed hot air from his vents at seeing a familiar wingtip protruding around one end. "Guess I'll go try and bully Screamer into going home. Again."

Skywarp gave him a dark look. "Yeah, good luck with that. Can you yank that stick out of his exhaust while you're at it?"

Thundercracker gave him a slap on the shoulder and a lopsided smile, and slipped past.

Spotting him in the periphery of his visual sensors, Starscream didn't even glance up at his wingmate's approach. "If you're here to join in abusing my audios, you can give up and go away now, because I will turn them off."

"I'm not here to heckle. I'm here because I've got an idea for you, and you never know, it might even not kill you. Just… come here a second..." Thundercracker set his fingers on his wingmate's wings, and pulled him carefully backwards away from his seismograph.

Pulled over his centre of gravity, Starscream gave a little yerp of alarm and flailed his arms, but rapidly realised his choices were limited to 'follow' or 'fall on your aft'. He elected to save his dignity.

"How about," the blue Seeker went on, using his lack of balance to steer Starscream around in a tottery half-circle, to face in the opposite direction, "you go home, get yourself a flask of high-grade, sit down, relax, and actually defragment for a change."

His wingmate's protests were strangely determined; he leaned hard back into the dark hands and dug his heels in. "I can't. I've got to finish this. I need to work out where these readings are coming from."

"Right, because the Rift is suddenly going completely destabilise and cause death and destruction all round in the process the very instant you take your optics off it." Thundercracker resisted the urge to cast his gaze skywards. "Remind me, how deep did you say you were saving, at the moment? Are you up to your senary storage, or are you already deeper?"

"I don't believe I said, and it's only quinary, thank you." Starscream elevated his nose, sniffily. "I can last another orn or two without needing to defragment."

"Without crashing and going into stasis, you mean?" Thundercracker sighed and fumbled with his subspace. "Well, I'm not scraping your aft up off the dirt if you fall over, so... here. At least have this if you won't go home. You need it more than I do." He brought out a tall silver flask.

The red jet gave the container a suspicious look and tucked his hands away, up to his chest, as though at any moment it might jump up and bite him, and glanced up to meet his wingmate's gaze. "You're supposed to have intook that already."

"I know. Turns out I didn't need it."

Starscream narrowed his optics to a glare. "You better not be refusing fuel again," he threatened, releasing a single chastising blue finger to underline the point. "Because I'm not above sitting on you and pouring it down your intakes. I did it before, and I'll do it again in an instant-"

"No-o. I just got some from somewhere else." Thundercracker smiled in that gently chastising way he'd picked up lately, and gave the flask an encouraging little wiggle. "Pan and I shared a glass or two of high grade. To celebrate me not being her patient any more."

Starscream's manner abruptly changed; his wings perked, he straightened up and his optics brightened. "What?" he demanded, a startled look knocking the scowl off his face. "When did that happen?"

"Earlier today." Thundercracker gave him a wry smile, using his wingmate's surprise to slot the flask of energon into his hands. "You'd have found out sooner if you hadn't turned your pinger off, and were willing to you know, talk to Skywarp without getting into a screaming match over nothing with him? You know that was why he came down here in the first place, right – or did you think it was for your charismatic attitude?"

Starscream pursed his lips and backed off a step, muttering something that sounded like an apology. "Maybe if didn't act like a prize idiot every once in a while, I'd indulge him every now and then."

"And maybe if you weren't being a cantankerous old glitch who acts like he's got a spanner permanently jammed up his exhaust, he'd be less inclined to wind you up. Come on, it's not all his fault, and if you actually defragmented for a change, you might remember you don't have to take his heckling personally? You're stretched thin and fractious, and yelling at everything. Please go home."

Tired crimson optics narrowed down into a hot beam of irritation, but – miraculously – Starscream kept his vocaliser offline, for once, concentrating on uncapping the energon.

"You're not going to self-destruct from admitting you're a tiny bit fallible." Thundercracker set his hand against his friend's wing and gave him a soothing pat. "And you don't need to work so damn hard. They're not going to suddenly remember you were a Con and kick you out the instant you take a nap."

Starscream still refused to look up. "…you know that's not precisely my reasoning."

"…yeah, Starscream. I know. We'll make it worth your while."

At last, the dark face offered a fleeting, tired smile. "How, precisely. We crashed out of the Cons, and now we're stuck, just… wandering, like little lost sparklings." He didn't bother hiding his pleasure at the energon – cool, crisp, felt like it washed a little of the sludge off his spirit. "We used to mean something, TC."

"And we will again, now we're all back to full strength. Right? We'll help you find something to satisfy your ambition, so you don't feel the need to work yourself to an early termination just to keep your mind occupied. Something worth your time to fight for, eh?" Thundercracker offered a gentle grin. "Something more than just us two losers hanging onto your thrusters."

Starscream gave him a reproachful look. "Don't force me to say I care about you." He waved a finger, threateningly. "Because I will not be blackmailed."

"Yeah yeah." The blue Seeker chuckled. "We'd never beg a confession of affection off you. Poor Warp would probably melt out something critical at hearing it, anyway." He patted his friend's wing, affectionately. "If it means that much to you, I'll keep an optic on this silly thing for a while. Go home for a bit, Star."

"Don't call me that." The irritable sentiment was a little more genuine, this time. "You know I don't like it."

"Why not? It's your name."

"My name is Starscream. Don't go... lopping bits off just because you've suddenly got the idea it's unattractive."

"You never object to being 'Screamer', and it's only since we came home you've started to object to 'Star'." Thundercracker observed, ignoring his friend's bad mood. "Ahh wait, I get it. It's what Skyfire used to call you."

Starscream's voice descended into disgusted mutterings into his drink. "Stupid… maladjusted heap of spare parts."

"He only wants to be able to talk with you again, without you threatening to shoot out his main power regulator," Thundercracker soothed. "I think that secretly, you want to be comfortable talking to him, too."

Starscream promptly sucked energon down the wrong intake and was reduced to spluttering for several seconds. "After he showed me up, in public?!"

"No, he tried to apologise to you before you could slope off without saying goodbye and he lost his chance altogether for the next few hundred vorns."

"In front of everyone! As if that wasn't a calculated exercise in humiliation…"

"I think even you know he's not quite that shallow-"

"…And he should have thought about the consequences before he kicked me to the kerb!"

"Starscream."

"I know I know. Stop rocking the boat." Starscream glared down into the flask, sullen. "You're turninginto Pan, I hope you realise." He gave it an irritable swirl, and took the most sparing of mouthfuls.

"Please. You need to go home, and get some rest." For the second time in as many breems, Thundercracker steered the red Seeker in a gentle half-circle to face in the vague direction of their home. "I know you've not defragmented in about ten orns. You're going to have a breakdown if you keep this up."

"Well someone has to earn enough credits to keep us in enough fuel to fly."

"I know. That's why I'm going to help out, now I'm back on my feet." Thundercracker smiled at the suspicious look he got in response. "I already had my doctor's blessing, a while back, and now I don't have anything they can use as an excuse not to employ an ex-Con? Hardline's got some posts he needs to fill. Said that he'd take my history of command into account, I could apply for a post at inspector level."

"That's what you two were sneaking around discussing last night?" The tension visibly melted out of Starscream's wings.

"Yeah. We didn't want to get your hopes up in case our friendly local tyrant- I mean, in case commissioner Boxer put a nix on it." Thundercracker gave him a wry grin. "Thought we were talking about you again, huh?"

Starscream stared down at his thrusters, irritably.

Thundercracker gave him another encouraging push. "Come on, Starscream. Please? It's not logical to help me back to full strength if you self-destruct from overwork the day after, right?"

"All right, all right." Starscream put his hands up, defeated. "I'm going." He was clearly tireder than he wanted to let on, because he was quite happy to amble along on the ground with his arms drooping. "…how's Seem?"

Thundercracker walked alongside him, mostly to catch him if need be. "Yeah, the refit went well. He's just been out for a run with Whitesides," Thundercracker confirmed, with a nod. "Completely outpaced the poor guy. Whites only caught up because Seem had stopped, and judging by their route I bet he's sucked a ton of dust up his intakes."

"So long as that's all he's been sucking."

"Don't you start, as well," Thundercracker scolded, amusedly. "You're gonna give the poor guy a complex."

"He's already got one." The red jet waved a hand, airily. "But then, don't we all?" He looked askance at his wingmate and pointed a threatening finger. "Except you, of course. Better not have one, after all those credits we spent getting your brain fixed."

"Hey, guys…? Guys?"

The pair turned to find Skywarp approaching from one side; behind him, the twins had gathered strangely close to Whitesides, as if uneasy.

Thundercracker gave him a curious look; the dark Seeker actually looked somewhat genuinely concerned. "What's the matter, Warp?"

"Can't you hear it?" The teleport pointed behind them, above their heads. "I think it's that thing up there."

They turned to follow his gaze; in the distant sky, too far away to see clearly, hung a small dark dot, with an odd 'tail' stretching out in a gentle curve behind it. Now they were paying attention, the agonised scream of overworked engines cut quite cleanly through the quiet air.

"That sounds like… y'know. Something falling," Skywarp added, grimly. "Right?"

Thundercracker sighed, inwardly, sensing that his carefully planned exercise in finally getting Starscream to go home had just been completely scuppered. "…is that smoke?" he wondered.

"We can figure out what it is in a breem. All I know right now is that I don't want to be underneath it." Starscream gave the non-fliers a glare, and a snapped command. "All right, you gaggle of staring idiots. Get out of here. Now." When they just stared at him, he threw up his hands. "I'm not above nullraying you and dragging you away! Get a move on!"

That got them moving; Whitesides shooed Slipstream away, then held out his hand for Footloose, who dithered for a moment but soon followed them.

"We better retreat to a safe distance, too," Starscream acknowledged, irritably. "I can't tell how big that is, but it'll make a nice dent in whoever it lands on."

"Shouldn't we try and catch it or something?" Skywarp wondered. "I think it's a vehicle, it might be one of ours."

"I don't think it is, Warp," Thundercracker demurred, trying to boost his visual field enough to get a better look at it before it got too close. "I'm not getting a response to hails on any frequency. It's either damaged, or not local."

"And trying to catch it will only result in someone getting flattened," Starscream added. "Safe distance now, please…"

The stricken vessel came down hard on its belly in the ruins of an old building, in a derelict area on the Deixar side of the Rift, scattering scraps of oxidised metal and chunks of artificial rock in its wake. It skidded noisily through the heaps of old detritus, engines thundering and desperately throttling back in an attempt to stop, before its front end caught against a more solid set of broken foundations. Its skid turned into an uncontrolled cartwheel, forcing Skywarp into a hasty scramble out of the way.

It finally groaned to a difficult halt with its shattered front-end protruding over the cliff-edge. For several long moments, it just… hung there, creaking, fighting vainly against gravity… until with a final gasp of straining metal it lost its grip on the edge, and the broken depths of the Rift obediently swallowed it up. The dwindling set of crunches finally faded away with a last cough of smoke.

"…ouch," Skywarp said, as though in sympathy.

"That's putting it mildly." Thundercracker gunned his thrusters and glided closer to the cliff-face. "Come on, we better check it out. Whoever it is might need help."

"Or we might be better served by getting out of the way, in case it blows up," Starscream sniped, nevertheless following dutifully behind. "I doubt anyone could have actually survived that."

…the vessel turned out to be a lot smaller than it had originally seemed, falling like a stone from the sky with a plume of acrid smoke billowing from a scorched hole in its flank; the three Seekers lurking warily at the edge of the rift and gazing down on it were a little smaller, but not by a large margin. The silver fuselage was barely visible in the shadowy, sunless depths of the canyon.

"OK, so, that's definitely not one of ours," Skywarp pointed out, needlessly, as though the alien writing and tiny hatches it had shed in passing weren't enough of a clue. "Where'd you reckon it came from?"

"Its design isn't something I'm familiar with." Starscream gingerly picked up one of the broken plates that had sheared off as the vessel had tumbled past. The metal still felt hot against his fingertips. "I have no doubt we could cross-reference the writing with what we have in the library, though. If it's remotely local, it'll be on file."

"…whoa, hey, did you see that?" Before his trine-mates could move to catch him, Skywarp had gathered his feet underneath himself and pushed off the edge.

"Skywarp!" Starscream snapped. "What in Pit are you doing?"

The teleport caught himself in an untidy hover, a body length or two beneath them. "There's something come out of it!" He pointed into the depths. "C'mon, guys, you can't have missed it, it was huge. Down there, look."

"Where?" Thundercracker followed his pointing arm, retuning his vision to probe into the gloom. "I don't see anything."

Skywarp looked for himself, again, and grunted annoyedly at realising the thing he'd seen had in fact vanished behind one of the broken piles of jagged rock below.

"What did it look like?" Starscream chased.

"It was brownish, and kinda fuzzy." Skywarp frowned, consideringly, thinking back to his time spent on Earth. "...maybe we've been invaded by dust bunnies. Humans had problems with them, remember?"

Even Starscream couldn't help cracking a smile at that. "I think you need to look up the term 'dust bunny', Skywarp," he suggested, dryly. "It's probably just junk, blown in from further up."

The teleport made a dismissive pfft-noise, killed his thrusters and promptly dropped out of sight again. "Well I'm gonna go try catch it. You can dissect it and tell us what it is."

"Thank you, Skywarp." Starscream sighed and commented, to no-one in particular; "Well I'm not scraping you off the walls when you get yourself blown up again."

Next second, and he found out his attempt to send the twins home had been rather a failure, as well, when Footloose appeared out of nowhere and flung herself off the edge, determined not to miss out on whatever exciting thing her sire was up to. She vanished in a flicker of lilac; she might not be able to fly but she'd had plenty of experience in falling off tall things, and a series of short hops with her teleport would get her down before she picked up much speed. Landing without spreading herself over too many square yards of ground had become one of her specialities.

Slipstream wasn't very far behind her. He gathered himself to jump after her; a morbid fear of flying didn't mean he wasn't just as good at getting down off things, and had as good a grasp of 'cascade teleporting' as his sister.

…before he could jump, Starscream's attention landed squarely on him. "Slipstream!" he barked, startling the youngster into a wide-eyed retreat from the edge. "You even think about following them, and I'll deactivate your transformation subroutines for at least ten orns. While you're in your alt mode. Got that?"

"But Lucy-"

"-is an idiot like her sire, and we're not talking about her. I said, got it?"

Slipstream nodded hastily; being trapped in that hostile crimson glare had a bigger effect on him than it did on Footloose. "Got it!"

0o0o0o0o0

Even if a mech ignored the unfamiliar writing on it, the vessel was clearly of alien origin, Skywarp mused, doing a cautious half-circuit around it and running a curious hand over the buckled mess of twisted fuselage. Deep inside, the rumble and crack of fire made the whole machine tremble. It had probably once been a sleek little shuttle, smooth and graceful with atmosphere-capable wings, but non-sentient. A powerful electric field tugged on the circuits in his palm, but it didn't feel like any actual thoughts accompanied it. His low-intensity greeting broadcasts went unanswered.

The gash that had brought it down ran almost full length up one engine, level with his chest, revealing unfamiliar circuits and fuel lines and the heavy mass of a graviton core. He ran his fingers along the shredded metal, thoughtfully; the jagged edges reminded him of collision damage, rather than the intense heat of a weapon strike. Maybe it had just taken a wrong turn, somewhere out there?

"You'd love to get a good look at this, Screamer," he called up. "Want me to bring it up for you?"

"Not yet," Starscream demurred. His scratchy voice sounded terribly distant, away at ground level. "We don't know if it's safe and I'm getting some worrying readings off its central generator. You might want to get to a safe distance."

"Nah, it looks okay. It's just got a weird engine. I'll keep a sensor on it and move out if it gets worse, right?"

Skywarp had more to say, but never got the chance. Something small, pale brown and fuzzy-looking darted out of a hole in the vessel's side and right over his foot – he leaped back, alarmed, and slammed his wings against the wall of the ravine, dislodging a small cascade of rubble. The thing dove for cover close to the rocky walls.

"Skywarp? Are you all right?" Thundercracker's deep voice carried better than his wingmate's. "What's happening down there?"

"Did you see that?!" Stupid question, of course they wouldn't have, way down here. He could barely see them, away at the top of the cliffs. "The thing I saw before! It's a, a… fuzzy alien thing!"

Skywarp lunged for the spot he'd seen it vanish into, clipping a wing on the sheer walls of the ravine in his haste to try and see what it was. Definitely a creature, not just windblown debris!

As he rounded the little corner, however... the hole in the cliff became visible, and his enthusiasm deflated. Whatever it was... had gone underground. Skywarp fidgeted his thrusters, and glanced back over his shoulder, to check no-one had seen his wince. "Guys? Uh-… It's gone underground. Can you send me a probe or something?"

"I'll see what I have on the seismograph," Starscream offered, unexpectedly, although his words carried a flavour of long-suffering resignation. "So we can get you an answer before the thing blows up…"

The soft slap of shifting air as one of his sparklings appeared attracted his attention; Skywarp turned just in time to watch Footloose rematerialise a foot shy of the ground, and land with a thump and a squeak on the broken rock.

"Lucy," he sighed, watching her pick herself up. "Did you not see this thing crash spectacularly, or something? What are you doing down here?"

She brushed grit off her knees. "I wanted to help."

"You mean, you don't want to miss out." He managed a glare, and pointed up. "It's not safe down here. You need to get back up on solid ground, and stay with the guys."

She gave him her most inoffensive, honest face. "Can't fly," she reminded. "And it's not so bad down here. Just... jaggy."

"You know I meant this isn't safe," he gestured to the alien spacecraft, "and I know for a fact that you've teleported up onto higher things than the top of the Rift."

"Maybe I just wanna stay with you," Footloose asserted, clinging to his arm. "Feel safe with you."

Her expression was aggressive and her manner determinedly forwards, but Skywarp could feel her trembling and knew it was mostly a front. His mood softened, a fraction. "Well you better not be a brat, or I'll take you back up there myself." He patted her head, just hard enough to be gently chastising. "For now you can stay with me. You'll probably raise all kinds of Pit if you go back topside anyway. Let's just…" A quick glance at the jagged mouth in the cliff face put an awkwardness back into his manner. "…let's see what we can, uh, figure out. Might not be here for so long ourselves."

Footloose shrank back into his wings. "…what's down there?"

Skywarp gave her a glance. "You do know why I'm down here, right, Button?" He could hear strange, muted little clicks and squeaks filtering up from somewhere in the distance, and the gleam of tiny lights occasionally flashed in the gloom, but he baulked at the idea of actually approaching them. It was very dark, down there. Very... undergroundy.

-how's it, warp?- Thundercracker pinged, cautiously, switching to a more private channel to avoid unduly alarming Skywarp's company.

Skywarp shifted from one thruster to the other, trying to make his mind up. -see little lights- he offered. -noises too-

-…and?- Starscream interjected.

-camera?-

-nothing useful. Check it later-

-no, send Seem, need to check it out now-

-not a chance. Get back up here!-

-might blow up!-

-Come. Back-

Skywarp rolled his eyes and shook his head. "They're not sending reinforcements, squirt. Guess we better check it out ourselves."

Starscream's audios were apparently better than Skywarp gave them credit. -don't you dare, Warp-

Next astro-second and Thundercracker added to the protest. -come on, don't be a glitch, come back-

-shut up, guys- Skywarp shot both a filthy image that summed up his current opinion of their "over-reacting". -just getting a look. Won't be long-

He advanced a step or two into the mouth of the chasm; it was just a handsbreadth wider than his wingspan, allowing him to walk down it without clipping his wings on either side. Okay, Skywarp, he reassured himself. The roof hasn't fallen in yet. It's all ok.

"Da-ayy," Footloose whined, shifting from foot to foot.

He glanced back over his shoulder; she was stuck at the threshold, as though there were a sheet of glass stopping her advancing. "I'm not gonna go far, ok?" he explained, holding out his hand to her. "Just gonna see how far it goes. You can come if you want, but I'm not forcing you."

"What's the other option?" She dithered in the entrance.

"You go back up to the top, and stay with TC."

The what, and miss out? in her expression was almost audible, it was so clear; she skittered forwards and wrapped around his hand, optics wide, uneasy. "Ok I'm going to stay with you."

"All right." He gave her little hand a squeeze, and advanced another few steps into the increasing gloom, boosting the sensitivity of his visual circuitry in an effort to see anything. Never thought I'd ever wanna be an Autobot, but a set of headlights would be reeeaally useful, right now.

-not coming to get you if you freak out down there- Starscream griped, but his voice had a distorted quality to it. The rocks were obviously interfering with transmission. -Can get yourself out.-

The uneven, jagged ground creaked and broke under two sets of heavy feet, as the two machines slowly advanced. The tunnel struck Skywarp as distinctly seismically-generated, not mech-built, which was more than a teensy bit worrying, especially after seeing Screamer's obsession over his seismographs earlier. If the Rift was active and they were stuck in here when it decided to all kick off…? I know he's torqued at me, but he'll tell us if anything's going wrong, the teleport consoled himself. Besides, we'll probably hear it, down here in the bowels of the planet. He had to work hard to resist a shudder. Far behind, the stricken shuttle still groaned and crackled.

"Okay we can't find it, can we go back now?" Footloose whined, softly.

Skywarp glanced down at her; the glow from her greenish optics gave her face a strangely nauseated look. "Not much further, squirt. I see little lights, up ahead."

Footloose peered into the gloom in front; she'd seen them too, but hadn't wanted to say so. "They're probably some natural thing," she suggested, hopefully. "You know. Swamp gas."

Skywarp managed a little snerk of amusement. "And they say I watched too much TV." The tunnel was narrowing a bit, though, if he wanted to go any further he'd have to edge sideways through the gap ahead, and clamber over an uneven ridge of rock. Sure, the tunnel widened back out after the "squeeze", but he wasn't sure he wanted to go that far just yet… "All right. I guess we're not gonna get any closer to whatever they are anyway, are we?"

Starscream's voice intruded onto his thoughts. –Warp, get out of there.-

The teleport sighed to himself. One or two little panic-attacks underground, and Screamer automatically assumed the worst. -all ok, Screamer. Found something. Relax?- he shot back.

-no, ship's core unstable, might be about to blow, just get out of there!-

Skywarp froze, horrified. -What?-

Footloose squeaked in alarm as her sire's fingers tightened around her own, and attempted to jerk her hand free, but Skywarp's grip was tighter, and when she later thought about it, she recognised it probably saved both their lives. It stopped her running, which would have forced him to chase her, right into the onrushing danger.

As if in agreement with the red seeker, the shuttle gave a cough and a low groaning rumble, deeper than before, like a slowly dying fusion reactor, collapsing under its own scorching bulk. Skywarp scooped Footloose up against him and leaped for the gap in front, unthinking; it was a tiny fraction too narrow to get through without the aid of his teleport, but the pillars of rock would shield them from the blast, and they could triangulate their way out later.

He'd barely rematerialised before something grabbed his left leg, and yanked him out of the air. He landed with a yelp, hard enough on his front to shatter the tough crystal copolymer of his cockpit; it was a little miracle that he managed not to land square on top of Footloose. The little femme tumbled out of his arms and gave an unashamed sob of fright, skidding on her stomach across the rocks.

Skywarp seized her ankle and yanked her back under his wings; she squealed in pain as the rocks scoured off a layer of surface enamel, but he ignored it, tucking her right up close to his chassis and curling down over her.

A distant roar made the air shiver, and after an astro-second the firestorm swept overhead, condensed into a plume of intense blue heat by the narrow tunnel. The subsequent rockfall echoed up the tunnel, seeming to go on forever, a deluge of shattering rocks, closing off the mouth of the tunnel in the direction from which the two idiots had come.

Only when the dust had settled and the sounds of falling debris had faded into a painful silence did Skywarp let himself uncurl from his ball; he thrummed his fans and coughed grit from his venting, and peered into the dust-filled dark, looking for the green glitter of his little girl's optics. "Footloose? Button, are you there?" he croaked. "Are you all right?"

The vibrating little mound of dirty plating with a spiky, discordant electric field, tucked up close to his broken cockpit, proved to be Footloose. After a moment or two of gentle coaxing, she finally relit her optics and uncurled, and Skywarp was intensely relieved to find she was – miraculously – fine. His broad wings had sheltered her from the blistering heat and cascade of rocks. She was fizzing with concerned static, and all over him with careful little fingers, checking none of his extensive list of damages were going to prove fatal, but otherwise unhurt.

Content that Footloose was going to be just fine, Skywarp turned his attention inwards. Something felt very wrong. Not his wings, they just hurt where the heat had blistered the paint and crisped away a handful of sensors. Not his chest, either; so he'd smashed his cockpit, no big deal, there were no actual sensors there. No, the… wrongness… was limited to his left leg, and it didn't hurt, precisely… It just felt… cold. Heavy. Not even really like it was weighed down, it was just… like someone had snipped his actuators and left him with no motor control at all from the hip down.

…he didn't even have to look to know what the problem was, but he looked anyway. His right thruster was fine. His left thruster, on the other hand, just… stopped, abruptly, a third of the way down, where the rock started. He groaned, miserably, and let his head drop down between his arms. He'd jumped without a good view of where he was going, and had quantum entangled his left leg with the rocks – literally mixed the two different sets of atoms of the two different objects together into the same place. The only way to get out? Would be to cut his leg off altogether. So until such a time as he could find a knife, he was trapped. Underground.

"All right, Lucy?" He waited until Footloose had stopped checking his hurts and he'd secured her gaze before continuing. "You need to go to the surface and get help," he instructed, a lot more calmly than he actually felt. It took every ounce of self control just to keep the static from his voice. "And you need to do it the long way. This fissure should take you up, I can feel a breeze and you can follow it. No teleporting!"

"It would be quicker-" she protested, but he lifted a finger for quiet and she actually did as told for once.

"You've seen my leg, haven't you?"

She nodded.

"What happens if you misjudge things like I did and get yourself stuck too? Who's gonna find us? If you even survive! So no teleporting until you're back on the surface and can see where you're going. Please?"

She whimpered and rubbed cheeks with him, nodding. "But I don't want to leave you alone, Day. Not hurt like this."

"I don't want you to go either, spark," he admitted. "But I want to get out of here, and if my transmitter's not broken? It's being blocked by all this rock, 'cause I can't raise the guys."

"If-… if I dug your leg out-"

"Lucy." He leaned his head against hers, felt her little arms go around his neck.

"Please, Day, there's got to be something-"

"The only thing you can do for me right now? Is go get help. Please. I'm not exactly gonna be going anywhere. Okay? Please?"

At last, she nodded, and scuttled away down the narrow corridor in the stone, looking back at him every few steps. At least, he consoled himself, there was very little likelihood of her getting lost; his little family might not be known for their brains, but their sense of direction was second to none.

As for you, you prize-winning idiot… you're all right, he scolded himself, watching as the green glow faded out and finally disappeared, leaving the place lit only by the ominous warning-light red of his own optics. You're fine. Aside from the thruster, you're not so badly injured. You're just stuck down here for a bit, in the dark. No worse than a run-in with the Auto-dorks. So you don't need to overreact, right? Don't need to overreact.

Come on, what would TC do in this sort of situation? He'd be calm and collected and remind you that you're not that far und-… away from friends, all you have to do is wait for Lou to get back topside and they can track her positioning all the way back down here and get you out. Easy. Right?

…Could take Lucy a while to find her way up, though. And it could take 'em a while to triangulate where you are, though. And damn, it'll sure take 'em a while to dig all the way down here. All the way down here through all these-… all these rocks-…

He squelched his nerves, annoyed, and closed his fingers into fists in an attempt to stop his hands vibrating. "You don't need to overreact, Skywarp," he said, out loud, as though it would help him to believe it. "You've not even been down here for a breem, you useless wuss. Call yourself a Decepticon?" He examined his scuffed fingers, and the purple enamel that his optics had stained a murky magenta, like bad energon. "Lucy will be back any time soon."

Assuming she took your advice and kept her gate offline. What if she went and blended herself with the rocks? Because damn, she's still got your impulsive streak and might still think she knows better than you!

…Don't need to overreact. He clenched his fists tighter, feeling his servos protest, and offlined his optics, concentrated on trying to convince himself he was back on the surface. Come on, just 'cause you're out of the Cons doesn't mean you've suddenly gone soft. Right? You're gonna be a sensible, patient, reasonable mech, and not overreact or overthink or go crazy or anything. It's just dark, that's all. Dark. Pretend it's night, or something.

A scuffle of something dragging through the dust – maybe soft little feet? – and a curious chirp? from nearby attracted his attention. Those damn fuzzy… dustbunny-alien-whatevertheyweres. He shrank back, hiking his wings a little, defensively. It was their fault he was trapped down here. If he'd not followed what if it was a trap? The thought blindsided him. What if they'd wanted him to follow? To trap him here, on purpose? What if they'd blown their own ship up, on purpose?

"What do you want?" he challenged, out loud, struggling to keep the uneasy distortions from his voice.

The crimson glitter from his optics wasn't quite strong enough to see by, but there were definitely shadows, darting about in the peripheries of his vision. Shadows, and freckles of glitter where the glow of his optics reflected off… something. Eyes. Lots of tiny eyes.

There was something indefinably horrible about all those little eyes, all fixed on him, creeping closer. Without even realising he was doing it, Skywarp charged his weaponry, just in case. Well, you won't get me without a fight.

The spots of heat in his arms weren't so comforting as normal. And his fans sounded far too loud.

Something chirped, again, a clicky little spot of sound close to his elbow. Skywarp swiped at it, alarmed, and felt his fingers connect with something warm and yielding before the blow smacked it away. "Ah! Frag-!" He swallowed the exclamation and had to resist the urge to shoot at it. The way his luck was going, the shot would bounce off the walls and hit him.

Come on, Lou. Please hurry.

His fans hitched, a soft little stutter of gulping noise that he found himself focusing on.

"Don't need to overreact, Skywarp," he scolded, firmly. "She's not an idiot. Stay calm."

But she could be dead. Merged her little spark with the rocks and fizzled out. That's worth overreacting about.

…Pit sake, Warp, please stay calm!

The trapped seeker concentrated on slowing his stuttering fans, getting the air moving properly inside him again. Cold in, hot out. Felt like he was melting, down here. No air. No breeze. The rocks sucked up the heat his stressed systems poured out, and dutifully reflected it back at him.

"What do you want?" he challenged, unable to get the force he wanted behind his words. "There's easier ways of getting scrap metal than murder! Let me out of here, right now."

His spark felt constricted, a hot, swollen drop of lead in his chassis, trying to spill free of its magnetic bottle. Tight pain accompanied every not-so-subtle shift in harmonic.

Going to die down here; you know that, right? Your spark is already losing cohesion, harmonic uncoiling, flickering out. And your stupid hands-… is that just the dark playing tricks? Are you sure they're not less brightly coloured than they were just a breem ago?

"Just get your fans running smoothly," he whispered encouragement to himself, clenched hands trembling. "Cool down, think straight, right? Cool down, think straight…"

Something skittered across his wings – to the raw, abused sensors, it felt like a dozen little sets of feet, each tipped with a needle. He gave an involuntary cry of alarm and bucked; something squeaked angrily, very close to his audio, but the weight vanished and there was a soft thump as it landed in the dust.

Having the gremlins crawling on him proved the final straw. Just get out of here, you giant lumpen idiot! Get out!

The words formed a drumbeat in his mind – repeating over and over, inescapable, impossible to ignore, a thudding cyclical pulse of intangible noise that seemed to go with every tiny shift in his spark's harmonic. Get Out. Get Out. Get Out. Get Out.

"…get me out," he pleaded, not sure who he was talking to, fingers clawing through the dust. "Oh damn oh Primus get me out of here…!"

Skywarp's tortured semi-logic quailed before the weight of the spark-deep fear that had boiled up out of his core. But your leg- it protested, feebly.

-is disposable! he decided. Logic didn't really stand a chance. Shedding one broken body part was an acceptable sacrifice. It'd have to go anyway. And he wasn't sitting down here with these monsters looking for scrap iron for any longer than he absolutely had to.

No knife was no barrier to escape, for the desperate. The flaring pain all up his thigh and into his back as he tore into his own substructure? Barely noticed. Connectors tore away beneath his frantic, clawing fingers. Energon spat from ruptured lines, coating the rocks and fizzing a lilac fluorescence into the gloom.

get out get out get out

The instant his leg was free – the instant he'd shredded his way through enough connectors to tear himself apart at the knee – he went against every instruction he'd ever given Footloose and teleported himself as far up as he could possibly manage.

Out!

Pain flashed all down his insides – hard, cold pain, like his spark had frozen hard in his chassis, and he was momentarily convinced that he'd misjudged his destination and rematerialised inside something solid and this was it, this was the end and serve you right for panicking you moron-

…the world that obediently reappeared beneath his broken thrusters was reassuringly cool and familiar. Unfortunately, so was the gravity. The relief that he was physically no worse off than he had been a second ago, no more body parts melted into the environment, turned immediately into ohshit falling!

Skywarp gave an unashamed yelp of alarm and felt gravity close its fingers around him. The one thing almost as bad as being trapped underground, and he'd succeeded in shoving himself right into it! He'd gone from one bad situation to another one comparable in awfulness. His one good thruster was far from strong enough to keep him in the air; the scramble to remain airborne and save himself from any more damage was over almost before it had begun. All he managed to do was to slow his fall a little.

Thankfully, he didn't have far to travel. A few seconds of freefall culminated in a good solid whunch in a heap of old recycling. Scrap metal cascaded briefly across his flailing limbs and pain jangled all down his abused, blistered wings, but it was short-lived.

For a full breem, all he found he could do was lay on his back in the junkheap and wheeze blissfully cold air through his venting, letting it flow unhindered through his chassis, soothe the agonising heat out of his overtaxed spark. The stars formed a reassuring, relaxing vista overhead.

You're not underground any more, and you're not falling. Thank Primus for small mercies.

As soon as the urge to dissolve into helpless, relieved static had faded, Skywarp pinged a positional signal at his wingmates, come find me, guys, but it felt underpowered. The intense heat had probably crisped his antenna.

Oh well. The worst that could happen was that he endured Screamer chewing his audios for a bit longer for being a moron, and Footloose's woebegone look for making her crawl all the way up and getting out before she had. If they were all safe and happy and non-blown-up, he figured he could handle that.