Feminine Troubles Chapter 19: Complications
"And while it's very unusual, it is possible for a new spark to have just one code and energy donor, though generally the medical recommendation is to shore up the initial batch with code-bearing fluid from at least one more mech. It helps prevent possible health problems with the gestating spark, as well as lessen the potential for frame defects at decantation. Of course, most frame issues can be dealt with given proper and prompt medical treatment, but prevention is always the most effective way."
Skyfire actually knew this, and was pretty sure that her little adventure a few weeks ago with Scree and Megatron was responsible for her current condition. She plastered an attentive expression on her face-plates. She could tell Ratchet was nervous. The CMO had a couple of tells, one of which involved absentmindedly tapping on handy flat surfaces. She was doing it now.
Idly, the shuttle wondered if Ratchet had ever actually attended a carrier and the decantation of a Newspark. If she had, it had probably been a looooooong time ago. Femmes had been unusual back when the medic was young, too, though not as rare as they later became. Of course, that had changed in a big way recently…
"Rejection by the carrier's systems is one of the main causes of spontaneous extinguishing of a new spark. This happens when the carrier's nanites erroneously identify the newspark's containment frame as a harmful foreign body and the mechimmune system attacks it. The more varied the codes and nanites are that help to form the newling frame, the better a match can be made with the carrier's systems. This is especially important if the sire or sires are different model types than the carrier." Skyfire nodded in solemn agreement. She wasn't actually terribly concerned, but there was nothing wrong with taking precautions.
"Also, a variety of nanites can prevent issues caused by incomplete or damaged cybergenetic information being taken up by your micro assembly processes." The white and red medic continued.
"A minimum of two siring mechs is needed to get a reasonable range of nanites and code, which is also the minimum number of mechs it usually takes to get a femme sparked, though of course it usually requires more to achieve quickening."
Well, Starscream always had maintained that he was worth three regular Seekers. And Megatron was larger than life, himself. At least she knew they were both sturdy. Her Scree was smart and fast, but what was Megarton going to contribute? Firepower? Stamina? Simple vitality? She supposed that they did live in a dangerous universe, and all those things could be useful, but it wasn't precisely what she would have chosen if she had been looking for traits in a newspark sire.
If only there were some mechs of a more sensitive, poetic, empathetic character around. Skyfire would have immediately conscripted one of them to assist her in balancing out the Decepticon Leader's traits in her developing newspark.
Fraggit. Why couldn't Trailbreaker or Beachcomber have remained of the mech persuasion?
Sunstorm woke from his defragmentation cycle feeling good. He stretched, feeling the radiation of Earth's bright yellow, comfortably nearby star warm on his plating. He stretched sensuously, feeling his onboard power plant soak up the energy. Hmm, his thrusters kind of hurt. What had he been doing to cause that? Absently, he searched the ground near him with his servos. Something that was supposed to be here wasn't. He had misplaced something important…
The little Autobot femme that Primus had sent him! Where was she? He onlined his optics at full power and looked around wildly. Alone. He was most definitely alone, sitting forsaken on the (slightly singed) ground where he had landed in a barely controlled manner a short time before.
There was no adorable, curvy little green and gold femme looking at him with big, compassionate blue optics. Had he frightened her away? Had she simply left to go back to the Autobots as soon as he dropped into defragmentation? He felt sick to his tanks. Surely she had to know that Primus had chosen them to be together! It was so clear!
Was she even real, or had he dreamed her after that humiliating encounter with the feathered vermin?
No, she had been real! It would never have occurred to him to dream her up! He scanned his surroundings again, with radar, sonar, and other more esoteric instrumentation. His Cosmos! She was gone, stolen away! He had to locate her! He wasn't done hugging her and cuddling her and preening her and telling her all about himself and his Special Bond with Primus! He hadn't come up with an endearing pet designation for her!
Nothing. Just weird granite and silicate formations and unfamiliar bits of organic life. His rising panic fueled his aura, and nuclear fire began to glow along the edges of his armor. The Unicron spawned urge to shriek his frustration and loss to the skies began to well up within him… When he spotted something. Not an adorable little Autobot space farer, but almost as good.
It was a data cube. Spark in his throat, he dimmed his radioactive output and went to collect it.
It was…it was her comm. frequency! He very nearly jettisoned what was left of his already battered dignity to do a happy little dance. His lovely, sweet, incredibly hot little Autobot space-flyer, who had obviously been sent to him by the hand of Primus, had left him the means to contact him.
He would have preferred that she be here when he awoke, of course, but this was almost as good!
Sunstorm flew swiftly towards the Decepticon's Earth base of operations, punctuating his travels with the occasional loop-de loop and other exuberant maneuvers.
He assiduously avoided the native avians, though.
It was foggy. Really, really foggy. Bumblebee was returning from dropping her human friends off, and was well, bumbling through fog so thick that her headlights barely penetrated it. Fortunately an Autobot scout had far better sensory equipment available to her than your average human driver, but it was unpleasant and kind of disorienting. She wasn't used to navigating with mostly infrared and the occasional sonar ping.
Using the infrared, there were a surprising number of small organic beings flitting through the damp night. She would have to mention that to Hound.
Suddenly, the air was filled with the sound of jet engines, and the Bumblebee had the unpleasant realization that she was alone on a desolate, foggy road with no backup. Well frag it all to Unicron's used oil filters. She seriously hoped that it was just one of the Aerialbots approaching.
Oh Frag. Seeker, not an Autobot flier, and coming straight for her. She took evasive maneuvers, trying to make it hard for the mech to land a shot…But he wasn't firing. She transformed going at least 50 miles per hour, diving for the dubious cover of the drainage ditch at the side of the road, only to be plucked out of the air by clawed hands. She flailed and struggled, trying to aim her weapons somewhere useful.
"Cliffjumper! It's me!" Boomed the Decepticon. "I mean, if this is a new game, I'm all for it, but-"
Bumblebee aimed her gun straight between the coneheaded Seeker's eyes and turned on her headlights. "Hey, you're not Cliffjumper!" He said, sounding far more upset by the revelation than by the fact that she actually had a pretty good shot lined up. What are you doing out here?"
"Me! What are you doing out here!" Bumblebee replied indignantly. This is inside of Autobot patrol routes! And put me down!"
The expression on the Seeker's face was weirdly conflicted. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the arrival of the cavalry. Unfortunately it wasn't Autobot cavalry.
"Hey you Slagger! Put Bee down!" Roared a pair of angry voices down by Dirge's knee.
He and the minibot in his grasp peered down into the fog. "What are you two little fraggers doing here?" The Seeker inquired.
"Us, what are you doing with OUR Bumblebee, you pervy winged freak?" Bellowed Frenzy.
Wow. Rumble and Frenzy were actually looking pretty intimidating right now. Of course, she had always known that they packed way more punch than their size indicated. Smallest heavy-hitters in the Cons, but they made up for it with attitude. The symbiote twins were well known for taking on full-sized mechs, and more often than not, winning. She had always kind of admired that. It was hard to get others to take you seriously when you were on the far end of the "little and cute" end of the spectrum, and they did it through sheer bearings. They made Cliffjumper seem positively mild by comparison.
They were demanding the seeker release her. Rumble yelling something about going piledriver on Dirge's aft, and that he should stick to belligerent mini-femmes who were inexplicably attracted to gloomy exhaust suckers.
Jeeze, did they kiss their scary parental unit with those mouths? And…were they…trying to rescue her? That didn't make any sense, but it seemed to be the case. That was strangely endearing. Wait… 'our Bumblebee?'
She wriggled out of Dirge's loosened grip and dropped like a stone, expertly tucking herself into a rough ball, to roll and come up in a defensive pose. It might have been smarter to beat it, but frankly, she was kind of intrigued.
Soundwave felt a jolt of triumph and delight from Rumble and Frenzy, and got a brief flash of yellow armor and blue optics before he hastily distanced himself from the bond. He was pretty sure his trigger-happy little troublemakers were somewhere with the Autobot scout Bumblebee, but at least they did not appear to be getting lucky as of yet. Thank Primus. He did not think he was ready for that yet.
He had never had a tantrum in his entire functioning, but if his creations managed to score with the object of their affections before he did, he might have to make an exception.
Soundwave went so far as to clonk his helm against the energon refining filter he was working on, before collecting himself.
He was going to be happy for his creations. He was going to be glad, and grateful that they had fixated on a cute, mostly harmless little minibot who's only major bad habit involved pet primates, and not, for instance, blowing herself up, wrestling Seekers out of the sky, or transforming into part of a gestalt.
He was, frag it all.
Which reminded him; he was REALLY going to have to prioritize upgrading Laserbeak and Buzzsaw to be able to take on bipedal form sooner rather than later. The thought of the whining and complaining he would be subjected to once the Twins brought home a femme of their own if the fliers were barred from most courting did not bear contemplation.
It was a good thing Ravage was already perfectly capable of changing form. It was only a matter of time before she decided on a mech of her own, as well. At least in that case, Soundwave knew he wouldn't be getting an Autobot in-law. Well, unless she wound up with a mixed group, of course…
Primus. Was a couple of hotter-than-a-solar-flare Autobot officers to help him take his mind off these things too much to ask for?
Optimus Prime was frustrated. This was nothing new, as it happened. Ever since their Change, she had been becoming gradually more…insatiable. At first, she had thought that something had gone wrong with the change to her software and drivers, but after a hasty conference with the medical staff, and eventually with Ironhide and Kup (who had fortuitously been able to establish messaging through a wormhole rift) it became apparent that it was no such thing.
The ramifications were…unsettling. Not least because all of the available mechs happened to be Decepticons. Realistically, the only way to quiet the heat for all of the Cybertronians on Earth was for the Prime to see it to completion.
That meant sparking.
To be specific, it meant that she, Optimus Prime, was going to need to acquire sufficient mech spark energy and code-bearing transfluid to quicken a new spark and casing within her chassis. And not to forget, this would require multiple overloads in quick succession (which admittedly had been quite easy for her to accomplish lately).
Well, the overloads would be easy enough. At the moment, it seemed like it hardly took any effort for her to go off like a rocket escaping a gravitational well. The thought caused her to have a pang, thinking of Perceptor, their missing comrade, and a good friend. The kindly scientist was extremely…gifted at the more pleasurable arts.
She could only hope that wherever she was, Perceptor was somewhere safe, with someone who would appreciate her.
The entire science and engineering team was on the case, trying to reconstruct their friend's transit. They were sure she was on Cyberton, and had narrowed it down to somewhere in Tarn, but beyond that, they weren't sure.
Optimus had started to think that the only thing to do was send a team to Cybertron. They would have to take over the Decepticon Space Bridge to do so, and that certainly presented a challenge, but Tarn was Shockwave's home, and the location of his citadel. She would not abandon a loyal Autobot to him. A judicious application of Dinobots to the Decepticon guards on the bridge should help. They were eager to make up for Grimlock's little accident, given how much it upset Wheeljack and Ratchet.
She would lead the team going to Cybertron, of course. And if Megatron was there, and tried to stop her… Well, she would blame that little fission of excitement running up her back strut on pre battle jitters.
There was a smoking hot Autobot researcher in his control hub, and he was the only local authority. Shockwave felt the phrase "I have you now, my pretty!" bubble up in the back of his processor, but managed to restrain himself before his vocalizer shaped the sounds.
This was no time for cliché villainy. He wanted to impress the lovely paragon of Scientific Virtue, not make her desire to punch him in the sensors. She knew where they were, too. He recalled a memorable party involving a group of post-grads, the junior diplomatic staff from the Tarnian Embassy, and an accident involving several tons of fire suppressant gel.
There had been a fight using said gel. The Autobot had excellent aim. It was probably just as well her commanders kept her behind their well-defended perimeter at all times. Well almost all times.
Obviously, fate was rewarding him for his steadfast loyalty to his Glorious Lord, Megatron. He had received not just any Autobot, and not just any member of their science team, but the one he would most like to have a nice, in-depth chat with, over containers of his special blend of partially crystallized high grade. Plus, of course, he would have ample time to seduce her. She was kind of quiet and shy, as he recalled. Probably didn't get a lot of attention from potential berth-mates.
He would just have to be charming. Charming and suave, and as reassuring as a huge, one eyed- weapon handed Decepticon general could be.
He was sure he was up to it.